The Question
by LiMiYa
Summary: AU. The Architect has created a new program namedNeo Anderson. Post Rev. First Fic. COMPLETE!
1. Purpose

A/N: Thanks to both my beta readers, CD Nuts and Amber 20. Your vital input on my story has improved it immeasurably and your encouraging words helped me finish it. (Btw, check out Amber's website— it's awesome!)

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Disclaimer: I don't own the Matrix or anything to do with it! (I sure wish I did!)  
Rating: PG13 for language.  
Spoilers: Matrix Trilogy  
WIP: complete

**Summary:** AU. The Architect has created a new program named---Neo Anderson. (Post Rev.) First Fic.

**You know the question?  
**Trinity in The Matrix

**1 Purpose**

_I am a program, a program named Anomaly Avatar 01 - 06X2 by my creator. The Architect named me; he is the creator of the Matrix and of all programs, including me._

_But I also have another name, one that the Architect insists on calling me, Neo._

_Neo Anderson. _

_It's a name that's disturbs me, though I have no knowledge why. It feels as if a part of me is missing; and the thought is disquieting._

_What is missing?_

_Perhaps what's needed is a purpose, a reason for my existence, I think I'll speak to the Architect about that._

_>>>>>>>>_

He sits in emptiness, a white barrenness that has no end. He sits on a white chair in that emptiness, wearing a white suit that matches the white shoes and tie and shirt. His hair was also white, as is his beard, and the only color he shows is on his face. For while humans would consider his skin white, against all the monochromatic splendor of his surroundings, his skin looks dark, a pink with blue undertones. His eyes are black, a further shock, and glittered in an unsettling way.

He sits quietly, feet flat on the ground before him, his hands resting on the armrest, back straight, his head held stiffly upright while looking into eternal emptiness. There is no sound from him, not even a breath; the only movement is from his eyes, a slight sideways motion that seems as if he was dreaming with his eyes open.

He sits like this day after day, motionless, as if frozen in space, empty of purpose or design.

Nothing is further from the truth.

The silent stillness is shattered, as a doorway appears in that white blankness. A man strides into the emptiness, his motion purposeful and energetic. He is a tall man, made taller by the neutral gray of his clothes, a long one-piece body suit.

The white blankness alters, changing into a wall of tv screens, each one the length and breath of a man's arm. They encircle the two men from a distance of twenty feet, making the emptiness into a circular room, the wall twice their height with countless monitors. Each shows a picture of city streets and people, and no screen holds the same view twice.

With the tall man's entrance, the other man morphs, changing to the occasion. His white suit is now a faint gray, and the white chair now a dark gray. Even his necktie alters color, turning into a dark mahogany. The soft sound of his breathing fills the air along with the attendant motion. The man's dark eyes transform into blue, though its eerie brightness is still unchanged.

"Architect," said the newcomer, "I need to speak to you."

"Neo," responded the other, the first word he said in a long, long time. "I was expecting your decision for the last 2.5 days."

Neo slowed his pace and stopped, tilting his head to look at the seated man. "My decision?"

Neo's face is long, built of graceful lines and high cheekbones, with sensitive lips. He is handsome, yet despite his apparent age, he has an aura of youth, untried and without temperament. His light brown eyes looked unfocused, giving his appearance a vague, unfinished look.

"Your decision," answered the Architect. "For purpose and direction. What all programs strive for." He slowly turned his head upward to look at Neo, and studied him. "What caused your prolonged pause? What kept you from speaking to me?"

"It's nothing important." Neo drew his breath in surprise, uneasy. "I've had fragments of dreams, thoughts I can't account for. I've never experienced such things. Are these fragments what humans call---memories?"

"Explain these data fragments, Neo." The Architect now kept his gaze firmly on the other's face.

"I remember seeing a green curtain of light against darkness. Within the curtain the green light formed shapes, of things-people. In that dream I could control---reality. The motion of other objects slowed, while I moved freely. As I said--- a disturbing dream."

"Excellent Neo," the Architect gave a slight smile, the first Neo had ever seen from him. "What you are remembering is data, experiences from an earlier version of you."

"Earlier version?" He frowned. "Was this version of me---flawed? Is that why I was created? Because the first was deleted?"

"No, your earlier version was neutralized. A rogue program's underlying code was corrupted, and became a virus. To destroy the rogue program your avatar allowed his codes to be overwritten near destruction, until he was able to overwrite and negate the virus. The neutralization caused destruction for both your predecessor and virus."

"With the destruction of the avatar and the virus, you were created, Neo Anderson. Remade from the data fragments of this earlier version, you will finally complete the destiny your predecessor was created for."

"And what is my purpose, Architect?" Neo asked. Within his voice, shadows, echoes of another voice appeared. For a moment his eyes and face sharpened and focused with a laser-like intensity, a ravenous need.

The intensity was matched only by the Architect's blandness.

"Your purpose will be revealed in time, Neo. In the interim, your memories of the green curtain, of the matrix, must be fully restored and mastered. Along with your ability to manipulate the matrix."

"The matrix?" Neo froze at those words.

"Is there any thing more you wish to speak of?"

"No." Neo's voice was subdued, remote. He studied the ground before him, avoiding the Architect's eyes.

"There is one subject I need highlighted. Do you remember any humans who provoked emotions within you?" the Architect's gaze was steady on him.

"No, nothing but fragments." replied Neo. He tossed a curious look at the other man. The Architect stared with a blank intensity that was unnerving.

"Clarify the statement with further data," said the Architect.

"I saw many people walking between buildings and I was flying above them. In flight I felt---free." His voice was soft, wistful.

"You have also recalled another memory of the matrix." The Architect slowly turned his eyes away as he answered, "If you start to remember more about humans than you have--- tell me, Neo." The Architect was staring at the screens before him.

"Why?"

"Data segments involving other humans will be painful and induce erratic fragmentation within your programming." The Architect's slow and steady voice paused. "That is the primary reason your purpose has not been defined and implemented. Until all of your previous avatar's memories have been fully compiled and adjusted, any task can and will eventually be interrupted by an emotional cascade."

"Emotional cascade?" Neo frowned, his arms crossed over his chest. "Wouldn't everything be simpler if I don't have this version' memories? Easier if I had started with a empty slate?"

"Programming data is what made your earlier avatar unique. The circumstances that created them cannot be duplicated easily. Nor the abilities that resulted from them."

"My ability in the matrix." Neo finished softly.

"Correct." A small silence filled the pause.

"As you wish, Architect."

"Neo," said the Architect. "There is another subject to clarify. You may designate me, 'father.'" The Architect waited for his response. Neo's words would influence the Architect's plans and the events following it.


	2. The Quest

2 The Quest

_I am a program, a program named Neo Anderson. The Architect named me, he is the creator of the Matrix and of all programs including me._

_And yet…_

_The Architect is the creator of all programs, yet he wants me to call him 'father,' a term that in a way makes no sense. It's a word used to indicate the relationship between biological organisms of plant or animals. It's also a term used by humans to indicate an emotional or biological connection. To call the Architect creator is more accurate and logical for a program._

_I told the Architect that his request to call him 'father' made no sense, and the reason why._

_Oddly enough, the Architect laughed at that, his voice a measured beat of laughs, chilling me. Laughter is caused by emotion, and the Architect, wise and old as he is, has none, making his laughter ominous. _

_So why did the Architect laugh at my comment?_

_It's only a little puzzle against a larger mystery --- the ultimate purpose of these memories. Knowing that these memories are from an earlier version raises more questions than it answers._

_The question is-why are some of them useful to the Architect while others not? Shouldn't all data from my earlier version be relevant?_

_The matrix. The words send a chill within me, and disturb me with its familiarity._

_Understandable from what the Architect told me._

_Yet---_

_What is the matrix? I remember little, and at one point should've asked more questions. I don't know why I never asked._

_Why does the Architect suspect the memories of humans would fragment my programming? What I do remember isn't painful; but it does invoke emotions._

_All I recall of humans are fragments._

_I see the image of a dark haired woman. She is crying as she kisses me, I taste the salt of her tears, and see the anguish of her relief. But why is she crying? _

_And why does my memory of her induce a feeling of warmth, of protectiveness, and last, of overwhelming sorrow?_

_I remember a man. He is bald, dark-skinned, wearing a coat of leather. He says to me, "You are the one, Neo. The one we have waited for my entire life." His words fill me with a dead heaviness, a feeling of dread. _

_Yet I don't remember why the words bother me, and evoke those emotions._

_These memories make no sense, and it disturbs me._

_They are remnants of things that the Architect would erase. It's certain that they are part of my predecessor's past. But why didn't the Architect give me more information, more data to understand them?_

_The fragmented memories, are they the cause of my emptiness? For I sense that the man and woman were important to my earlier version, my predecessor. Yet I don't know why they are important._

_Is it possible that they are a key to something more? _

_But a key to what? _

_I need to know, to understand these memories and emotions._

_It's the reason I didn't speak to the Architect of them. The memories, while disturbing don't cause any pain. At least no more pain than the memories of the matrix. _

_Until they do, or until I understand them, I will keep silent._

_And search for answers._

_>>>>>_

Standing at the corner of a city block, near a mini-mart, he turned away from the telephone. Looking at the skyline, Morpheus realized with surprise that the area wasn't inner city; he had jacked into suburbia.

Still, it was the matrix. And the matrix was always dangerous for those from Zion.

"I don't like this," said Niobe tensely. She eyed the empty street, her face hidden behind dark shades, hair severely pulled away from her face. Her brown leather outfit reflected a little in the sun. "If an agent shows his face---" she paused significantly.

"The war is over, Niobe," said Morpheus. Squinting in the morning light, he absently pulled his glasses from his pocket. "None of the agents will try to harm us. We were invited by the Oracle to return here."

"Invited by the Oracle. Hope that's not an epitaph for my final mission." Niobe muttered. "Jason's angry enough at me---"

Morpheus sighed. "You did not have to go on this mission with me. I wouldn't want you to be in trouble with Locke ---" he stopped at the touch of her gloved fingers on his mouth.

"Too late. He's been angry from the start of the Logos' last mission," she answered with a quirky smile as she drew her hand away. "When he found out that Neo and Trinity took Logos--- more, that I offered them _my_ ship, Jason was beyond furious." Her smile turned bitter. "I doubt if I'll even get another ship now."

"Niobe-" He stopped as she quickly turned away.

"Forget about it." She started walking, slowly scanning her surroundings as she spoke. "We can talk about this later, Morpheus. Now let's complete your mission."

"Let's find the Oracle."

>>>>>

_I dreamed again. Last night I dreamed of the black man, and he spoke to me from a phone._

'_You are the one, Neo. You see you may have spent the last few years looking for me, but I've spent my entire life looking for you. Now do you still want to meet?' _

_The most puzzling thing about this memory is the knowledge that I'm lying down in a small cluttered room, knowing that someone was after me, and feeling trapped. There's an odd taste in my mouth. After I woke up that I realized it was the taste of fear._

_But it was later that day the most disturbing incident happened. The Architect wanted me to see him and when I did, there were two men waiting with him._

_They had dark suits and sunglasses. But the odd thing was, when the two strangers looked at me, they recognized me. _

_And feared me. _

tbc


	3. The Architect's Design

**3 The Architect's Design**

The Architect was seated in the circular room, with all the monitors showing one scene, that of the room. Neo and the two men are seen from hundreds of different angles, though strangely, not one screen showed the Architect.

"Neo, these are two agent programs from the matrix," the Architect said. "They are reactivated enforcer programs, ones that will be with you on your first journey into the matrix."

"Why?" Neo is wearing a gray business suit, much like the Architect except for one detail--- a black overcoat that hugged his shoulders, then flared out cape-like after the waist, the folds of the coat ballooning out as he paced restlessly toward the agents. In his right hand are shades, which he absently slipped into his overcoat' pocket.

He walked in a large circle around the agents, intently studying their reactions. The smaller man pivoted on his heel to keep himself always facing Neo as he circled them while the taller man swallowed nervously once, his hands clenching and relaxing sporadically as he held himself still facing the Architect.

"Elaborate question." The Architect sat and watched them, his hands tented before his face.

"Why do I need these enforcer programs, these agents?" Neo' mouth curled into a sneer, his voice pattern altering to a rhythm that froze both agents in surprise.

"They are to monitor and guard you against a specific circumstance. While the probabilities are small, it is possible that you will meet him today. The agents are to guard you against that."

"Who?" Neo stopped his pacing, and his attention shifted to the Architect. They lock gazes emotionlessly.

"It matters little, for if I spoke his name, you would not recognize it or him." Neo's eyes shifted away at those words, a fact the Architect noted dispassionately. New calculations are made and end with disturbing conclusions.

"Why these particular ones?" Neo's attention returned to the agents.

"Both agents know and dealt with him before."

Neo nods absently, "What are your names?"

"Agent Brown," said the smaller man. Echoed by the taller a heartbeat later.

"Agent Jones."

>>>>>>

"Something's wrong, Niobe," said Morpheus. He glared at the building and stood frozen despite the shove that Niobe gave him. "This can't be the place."

"No, this is the address Link gave us." Niobe, snapped, her eyes surveying the surroundings. The street was lined with single-family homes, with large trees and cars parked in driveways. Birds twittered, and the distant sound of cars rumbled through the still morning air. It was calm, peaceful.

It made Niobe uneasy.

Morpheus pulled out his cell phone. "Link is this the right place? Are you certain?" Snapping shut his phone with more force than necessary; Morpheus then took a deep breath. "Let's go."

Niobe stood on the sidewalk and looked at the building that Morpheus now stomped up to. It was a two-storied Victorian home, built of slate woods painted a bright powdery blue with white trimmings. The home while old was neat, the lawn well kept, as was the surrounding neighborhood.

What had upset Morpheus was the small sign on the door that said:

The Oracle  
Futures told  
By appointment only

>>>>>>

They watched the door close behind Neo, then the agents turned to the Achitect.

"Why?" said both agent programs together.

"Is this wise?" added agent Brown.

"Specify and clarify the object of data requested," said the Architect. He was satisfied that both worked within acceptable parameters despite the lost of their designated spokesman, Agent Smith. Yet with the defection of a third of the enforcer unit, further scans was required to evaluate their potential usefulness.

"As he said a sequence, Mr. Anderson reminded me of the other," Jones said.

"Clarify, identify the secondary subject in discussion," the Architect said. During his speech, both agents memories were downloaded and reviewed, fragments of time showing on every tv monitor. It showed the viewpoint of the agents performing their function—the hunt and elimination of Zionist rebels. Until the defection of Smith, their unit had the highest success rate in purging the matrix of suspected rebels. On every screen was a different scene of a human's termination.

"Agent Smith, our former partner," said Brown.

"Is it not dangerous," added Jones. "To let a potential virus code to inhabit the One?"

"The data fragments are too scattered, for the subject Neo Anderson to be more than vaguely influenced. He will be inclined to think of you as Agent Smith did, however." The Architect said. Hearing the flawless echoing and watching the instantaneous flow of code between them, confirmed the unit's viability. The decision to use the agents was instantaneous, final.

The agents exchange glances and information. "We still consider this action to be perilous," said Brown.

"To allow Mr. Anderson to return to the Matrix today is dangerous," Jones continued.

"Morpheus is within the Matrix." Brown explained.

"The programmed anomaly was also sighted," said Jones. Both agents looked distressed by this. "Are the probabilities negligible for an encounter today?"

"Probabilities have taken an enormous leap in making the encounter all but certain," the Architect informed them. "Neo's reaction today has guaranteed it. He will seek the other, curious without comprehending why. It is his nature."

"Would it not be logical to keep the anomaly out of the Matrix," observed Brown. "Until a measure of control has been reestablished?"

"No, a greater hazard, a increasing danger- has arisen," the Architect said. "It must be halted, restrained, contained." The Architect' eyes were frozen chips of ice, the intensity alarming set against his emotionless face. "This is what you must do."

The Architect sent general commands to both programs, then their individual orders with the warning not to share it within their unit. He watched with interest at the reaction his orders caused: the enforcer named Brown blinked twice, while the one named Jones faintly frowned.

Their reactions to the new orders were extreme for agents, but still within acceptable parameters for sentient programs.

The truncated enforcer unit was satisfactory. And if destroyed it was no loss to the matrix. They had been scheduled for deletion.

>>>>>>

_Something happened as I left the Architect and the agents. An event so unexpected, that I stopped in the hallway to lean against the wall, feeling shaken in its aftermath._

_I remembered. _

_I remembered… her. The dark haired woman, the one haunting my dreams, in my memory she had been sitting at a metal table. She looked up as I approached, and smiled. _

_And my response at her smile was warmth--- of emotion so strong, it shook me to my core. _

_But it's later I realized a terrible fact…_

_Afterwards… afterwards---I don't—I can't remember her face. _

_For one moment I can see and remember her face, knowing everything about her. But after that moment, I can evoke nothing of her._

_Nothing._

tbc

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A/N: (Looks at the reviews. Jaw drops, eyes pop open.)

Wow!

Thanks for all the great reviews:)

Next chapter: _Talk with Morpheus_.


	4. Talk With Morpheus

**4. Talk with Morpheus**

"Oracle, what's the meaning of this?" The door crashed open in a jangle as Morpheus stalked in with Niobe following a moment later. His eyes swept the parlor taking in the dark Victorian furniture, the round table with a crystal ball sitting in the center. The windows had frilly curtains, keeping the morning sun out. Against one window a figure stood, a silhouette in the dimness of the house.

It looked like a clichéd version of a medium's room. Morpheus hated it.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light, and when it did, he stared at the lone occupant. The woman was thin, younger than expected, and drew a shocked grasp from Niobe. For a second Morpheus thought her a stranger, until he saw the easy stance she had, the way she took a drag from the cigarette, the slight smile that graced her features.

A familiar stranger, until he looked into her eyes.

"Who… Oracle?" his voice rasped hoarsely. It was---her---her original face, and impossibly young. A stab of grief followed sudden recognition and he stared wordlessly.

"Morpheus," she answered with a slight nod. "I have changed more times than my name, but at least I'm always me, thank goodness." The moment stretched uncomfortably. "Like the new look? Or rather the old look minus thirty years." Wearing dark slacks with a lime green blouse, she was the image of their first encounter, a lifetime ago.

"It is a surprise," he answered numbly, looking at a face near his own age. "This is the second time---"

"The second time I've changed?" she said, wreathed in smoke, holding the cigarette in one hand. "You've always suspected what I was. Still, knowing the truth and believing it can be two different things." She faintly smiled. "I'm sorry you hate my new looks, Morpheus, but there's more, isn't there?"

Seeing the smile, Morpheus felt something within him shatter. He had hoped to distance himself from the whole situation, trying to find a balance and inner peace on meeting her again. But staring at the Oracle brought to the surface how he had once considered her his guide and mentor in the quest to find the One. Seeing her again made one fact clear.

He felt betrayed.

More, there was some inner warning that he could not focus on, that made him feel adrift, lost in a dark and treacherous world. And knowing the feeling involved her.

"Being made a fool is enough without being reminded of it, Oracle," he answered bleakly. "But to find you're now selling your talent, your predictions? How can you do this?"

"There was no choice, Morpheus," the Oracle said sadly. "With the arrival of the One, the matrix had changed. The balance of power has changed and I changed with it. Now that the war's over, I had to change more."

"Meaning?"

"The war's end comes with a price. The greatest price is change, whether you want it or not. And change can sometimes leave you unrecognizable to others," she said, indicating herself. "Unrecognizable even to yourself some days."

"Perhaps," said Morpheus, subdued.

"I hope you do understand that, Morpheus otherwise the future will soon be very bleak. Now have a seat and let me tell your future," she offered, indicating the table with the crystal ball. She sat on a chair at the table and looked expectantly at him.

"No, never again," he said with distant formality. And held himself still.

"Know something? You'll wish you'd broken that promise." the Oracle said, her head tilted and slight smile lighting up her face. Seeing the smile, one that an older face always used to give her predictions, Morpheus' emotion of betrayal was consumed by something darker.

"Never! Don't try your tricks on me again, you charlatan! You-you damned machine!"

"Morpheus!" said Niobe grabbing one arm in warning. He realized with a sense of shock that he was at the table, his hands resting on its surface and arms supporting him as he leaned to glare down at the Oracle. Her face was inches away, so close that he could smell the cigarettes, and the peppermint candies on her breath.

"It's all right. Let him speak his mind," the Oracle said, unruffled.

Morpheus held his pose a second longer, then moved a few steps away. It was only when he moved away, that Niobe let his arm go. Stifling his anger, Morpheus clasped his hands rigidly behind his back as he turned to the Oracle.

"I said, never again." Morpheus repeated softly, coldly. "Once I found out that the Prophesy was a lie, I realized I was a puppet to machines again, and I'll be damned if I let some…program do that to me a third time."

"All I ever said was what you needed to hear. And I never told you what to do, Morpheus. I only told you what would happen given those decisions."

"No, I admit you said what I needed to hear, and more, gave help that I willingly received. I also admit you never outright lied to me, Oracle. For that I thank you. But what I can't accept is the way you presented the truth. All choices were mapped and sculpted by you. In the end, all our actions---all my actions were planned by you."

"And the worst thing about it is, I saw it and still trusted you. I trusted you." Morpheus then took a deep breath. "I only came here for one reason. Neo. What happened to him? We found Trinity on the Logos, but---"

"You already know what happened, Morpheus. Especially once you found Trinity's body." The Oracle's voice was soft, pitying.

"Neo's dead. Smith killed him." Morpheus closed his eyes, feeling a hope die. He kept his eyes closed as he listened to her reply.

"Yes. Neo is dead, like before."

"If only I went with them, maybe I---"

"You would have also died Morpheus, and nothing would have changed their fate," interrupted the Oracle. "But that's not what's truly troubling you, is it?"

"No."

"Go on. Speak your mind."

"Why?"

"Why what, Morpheus?"

"Why didn't you tell us the Prophesy was of machine origin? That it was only a way for the machines to control us?" he whispered, his throat dry.

"You never asked."

"What?" Morpheus' eyes snapped opened and he glared at the Oracle. She stared back with unflappable calm.

"The one thing that man and machine have in common is the blindness beyond their stated objective or purpose. Their mission if you will. You had all the clues in front of you, but you never asked the right questions. Remember that, Morpheus. You must ask the right question." Morpheus could almost see the original Oracle, her old, wise face looking out of the younger version.

"If I had asked the right question, then I never would have trusted you, Oracle," Morpheus replied bitterly.

"Which, in the end, was the best for all concerned," said the Oracle, her eyes turning cool, remote. Smoke drifted lazily from her cigarette.

"Except for Trinity. And Neo. And all the others who died for your lie. And my beautiful, false belief." Morpheus turned to leave, but stopped at her voice.

"Do you know what machines think mankind's one great weakness is, Morpheus? It's that emotions rule your perception and your lives. That man's history of war had been caused by the emotions of greed and lust for power."

"And the machine's one greatest weakness is ignoring those said emotions which are what make humanity great, that drives us to do the impossible, Oracle," Morpheus snapped back, turning to glare at her. "It is emotions that drives us---and keeps us going when everything else says otherwise."

"Now that's where you're wrong Morpheus," the Oracle said, raising her finger admonishingly. "The machines had realized that it is your strength --- though not mankind's greatest strength, and that's why I was created. I was created to understand emotions and in that comprehension utilize it."

"Utilize it for what purpose?" Morpheus said indifferently.

"To create the One."

"Neo." Morpheus replied, his voice quiet. "But in the end, it doesn't matter anymore, since he's dead. And so is nearly everyone else I knew during the war. And Trinity, when I found her---" He swallowed painfully and turned away again.

"Morpheus---"

He stopped, but didn't turn around. "No, Oracle. I don't want to hear any more," he said quietly.

"Remember what I said. When you need answers, find me," she answered. "If you can."

"Niobe?" Morpheus realized that she wasn't following him, and in fact was still near the Oracle.

"I'll be with you in a minute, Morpheus. After I talk to the Oracle," she said.

He frowned but left the parlor, closing the door behind him.

tbc

* * *

Next: _Why Not Truth?_


	5. Why Not Truth?

A/N: I guess Morpheus was a bit OOC last chapter. It will (hopefully) be explained in the next chapter..

**5 Why Not Truth?**

It was standard procedure after leaving the Architect's presence to go to the next destination. And after the deep memory scan and upload of orders they went through, desperately needed.

The procedure was necessary, yet for Jones, it was disquieting.

The last time they walked here, Smith was leading the way, with himself and Brown trailing.

Now--- only he and Brown strode down the hallway, until they reached the correct door. He opened it and stared within. The room was blank, a featureless white void. A void just like their memories, for once they stepped inside, they would perceive nothing, know nothing until the next memory was of standing outside the room.

But they always left the room as better, stronger agents, agents that served the matrix and fulfilled their purpose. The thought quieted his unease.

"Upgrade room. Of systems…weapons." Jones murmured.

"Weapons?" Brown said, and something in his voice made Jones turn.

"Yes. Aren't you—" Jones said and stopped.

"No new weapons," Brown said, answering the unfinished question and watched him, worried.

Jones stared back and said, "Our purpose is to follow orders."

Turning back he walked through.

>>>>>>>>>

Niobe watched the door close behind Morpheus, and saw his shadow shrink and disappear from the door's window. She stood in momentary silence, and turned to face the Oracle.

"Is there a reason you empathized your new look, Oracle? You seemed determined to get Morpheus to comment on it," Niobe said flatly, uncomfortable. The Oracle seemed more off than could be accounted for and it alerted her instincts. It was the reason she stayed, sensing more needed to be learned.

"Yes," said the Oracle. "I needed to start a conversation with Morpheus, but unfortunately he was annoyingly single-minded today." She sighed, the cigarette smoke swirling from her mouth. "I guess I deserve it in all consideration."

"A dialog? Was it to get him to ask you questions?" inquired Niobe, thinking of the Oracle's attempt to tell his future. "Why did you need to?"

"Bingo! Got it in one, dear!" the Oracle smiled. "Since the war, my ability to give and reveal answers is limited. Unless it directly advances the Source's goal, I can't volunteer information at all. Although-" The Oracle leaned back into her chair, then stared contemplatively at Niobe. "I can still reply to direct questions."

"But you gave information to Morpheus," said Niobe, feeling irritated. "And don't tell me that volunteering the machine's opinions advances the Source's goal." The conversation was now starting to remind her of Zion politics; where everything had to be monitored for double-meanings and trickery.

Silence stretched uncomfortably. "Well?" Niobe asked.

The Oracle stared back, taking a drag off her cigarette.

Niobe scowled. "How can you give information that's not asked?"

"In every rule there are exceptions. I freely gave information already known. Now Morpheus might've not known the answer concerning the machines, but I did speak to a Zionist about it," stated the Oracle.

A small silence followed, as Niobe tore apart the conversation, trying to find new meanings. One thing was certain, only questions she asked could be trusted. Any other information could be serving the machines goal. Why couldn't Jason be here? He was comfortable in dealing with this sort of maneuvers; verbal combat was his forte, not hers.

"There's more, isn't there?" Niobe ventured.

"Yes, there is." The Oracle said. Niobe waited for more, until it was obvious that the Oracle was finished.

"So is there something more you want me to ask? Or was it asked already?" said Niobe.

"It was. But not by you. By Morpheus."

"Morpheus? A question by Morpheus?" said Niobe sharply. She had thought to make sure the Oracle had given her all the important information. But to find out that Morpheus somehow missed information the Oracle thought important? And now she had to uncover it? Her head was starting to ache. "What did he miss?"

"The right question," the Oracle stated.

Niobe rubbed her forehead, feeling utterly furious at Morpheus for putting her in this predicament. What question did the Oracle mean? There had been only one question that Morpheus was interested in… She caught her breath, surprised at the simplicity of it all.

"Is Neo truly dead?" she asked. "I noticed that you said, 'he died, like before' but Trinity once said he had died, but returned ---" her voice faltered.

"I knew you were a smart one!" Oracle gave a smile that faded. "It will depend on Morpheus. With Trinity dead…" the Oracle shook her head.

"Why didn't you tell Morpheus that Neo was alive?" Niobe said. She had never trusted the Oracle, it had been one of the things that driven her and Morpheus apart, his blind faith in this seer. "You're deliberately misleading him."

"I made a choice, one that you will understand shortly." The Oracle stared contemplatively at the cigarette smoke "Tell me, what would you choose—the truth with the knowledge that he would die to protect and thereby destroy all, or deception and life?"

"What?" Niobe asked hoarsely. "Is Morpheus in danger?"

"You'll know when he's in danger. Believe me, you will," the Oracle smiled. "Now don't you have more questions? If so, I would suggest that you ask now."

"Okay," Niobe said, and pushed the anxiety for Morpheus out of her mind. If it was a choice between himself and Neo, she knew what Morpheus would want. "Neo's condition is of paramount concern." She felt an overwhelming dread at the seer's next words. "Is he a prisoner of the machines? Or is he injured?" she added, thinking of Trinity's body on the Logos.

"Neo had been blinded when he had arrived at 01. It's a condition that the Source has treated. And no, Neo isn't a prisoner of the machines. Not exactly." The Oracle voice had a strange tone, and her lips had twisted as she stared at her cigarette intently. Niobe frowned.

"So what precisely is the problem with Neo?" she grounded out. Despite knowing the Oracle's restrictions, Niobe felt as if the seer was toying with her.

"Simply put, the Architect brainwashed Neo. The One now believes that he is a machine."

"What?" Niobe stared, wordlessly.

The Oracle stubbed out her cigarette and lit up a new one before continuing. "Neo believes himself a program, to be precise. One made by the Architect. I suppose in one sense it's true," the Oracle mused, shaking her head. "Poor kid."

"How did this happen?" She started to pace around the room, and stopped in front of the seer.

"In the battle with Smith, of course," replied the Oracle. "The results of the battle was that Neo died, if only temporarily. His consciousness was consumed by Smith, and their codes had been tangled nearly beyond saving. Not beyond the Architect's skills, unfortunately."

"Who is this Architect?" Niobe said. "I've never heard of him."

"He holds power over the matrix and over the One." The Oracle sighed. "The Neo you know is almost gone, and if the Architect has his way, the next time you see him, nothing but the One will be left. He would be the Architect's One."

"How can we save Neo? And stop the Architect' plans?" said Niobe urgently.

"I hate to bring bad news," the Oracle said, "But the real question is, should you stop the Architect? Or save Neo? You'll be given a choice, Niobe, and it will either destroy this peace or cement it forever. And to do that it will only cost one thing, one life."

"Neo's," she answered, stunned. She opened her mouth to ask more, until distracted by the uproar from outside. Gunshots along with screams sounded ominous, especially knowing where Morpheus was.

"It's starting," the Oracle shook her head. "He's going to do something rash. In all his years Morpheus has never learned any caution in words or deeds."

The Oracle stared as the door slammed shut with the force of Niobe's passage.

"No wonder you both get along," she sighed. "And you still hadn't asked the right question."

tbc

* * *

Next chapter: _It Begins_


	6. It Begins

**6 It Begins**

_The matrix. I have no real memories of it, but from the first it was recognizable in every sense of the word. The matrix was like visiting a place of warmth, and knowing it had joyous, infinite possibilities. _

_It was home._

_The agents led me to a featureless door and when Brown opened it, he stepped through followed by Jones while I watched. The place they walked to was… elsewhere._

_From the blank threshold I saw tall buildings made of glass and steel. They dominated the skyline, a remote and ominous forest. The doorway opened to a building's roof, and Brown held a hand to his ear, his attitude that of listening. Jones had slowly turned around, scanning everything intently._

_There was a sound I recognized as traffic, an endless multitude of cars that roared and honked, snarling as they sped by, sight unseen. I stepped onto the roof, and my foot met gravel, a gray carpet that crunched as I moved. A slanted bright light burned from the sky, and the sharp damp coldness of the air felt like early morning. _

_The intensity of the matrix was in turns alarming and reassuring. Alarming, for unlike the home of the Architect, many objects such as buildings and cars-- indeed, many sensory distractions like the cold and dampness and noise, seemed to serve little purpose. But it was reassuring in the sense that it was familiar. A piece of my dreams._

_I stared at the scenery and wondered: where was the green curtain? I felt a shift within myself as something dormant, infinitely old and deadly suddenly awoke, and the matrix --- changed._

_Everything now looked like green fire, a multi-dimensional rain of letters and numbers-that swirled and crawled endlessly in a continuous loop forming the buildings the sky and even the cold dampness. Everything was made of it, and as I looked down I saw the green light I was created of._

_Looking at the silhouetted agents I saw the green fire consisting of Brown subtly alter, starting at his ear, and a moment later the same happened to Jones. I realized that the two had received new information, and the information had something to do with me._

_My vision of the matrix shifted to normal, and I found both agents staring at me._

"_Mr. Anderson," said Agent Brown. "We will leave you for a few minutes. Do not be alarmed at what transpires to these bodies." _

_Agent Jones continued. "If you stay here we will return shortly." _

_The agents changed, and Brown morphed into a stocky old man, while Jones altered into a young woman. Both looked around in shock, until the woman said:_

"_Where is this? Am I dreaming?"_

_>>>>>>>>_

Niobe, after charging out through the Oracle's door, stopped and stared. She found herself in the middle of an empty downtown street. The height of the buildings shot upward to heart-stopping vertigo, shadowing the street in artificial twilight, devouring the sky except for a pale strip directly overhead.

"No. Morpheus!" Niobe spun and raced back to her starting point, to open the door she arrived in. She saw with a sinking heart that the door she came through was steel, and had no handle on it. She began to pound on it in frustration.

"Let me back in, goddamn you!"

The door opened. Within the door stood an oriental man. He was dressed in white jacket and black tank top and pants, the cloth warmly lit from the corridor's light that framed him.

"Captain Niobe? I'm from the Oracle. She sent me to guide you through the right door," he said as he stepped aside for her passage. "Will you follow me?"

>>>>>>>>

Morpheus was standing on the sidewalk looking the opposite way when trouble started.

He was staring blindly upwards at the branches of the tree he stood under, trying to keep himself from thinking and failing miserably.

Brooding on the fact that despite achieving the lifelong goal of finding the One of Prophesy and thereby saving Zion he felt— hollow. And he knew why.

It was the knowledge of what the Oracle was. With the revelation that the Oracle was a program, everything he'd done, everything he believed was now cast in doubt and made worthless.

Worthless because he believed that mankind's freedom had been compromised; and the war's ending--- a deception.

More, every crewmember's death, counting even Cypher, a man whom he knew as a traitor to humanity, now weighed heavily in his heart. Nearly every member on his ship fought in the war because they trusted the prophecy, and ultimately trusted him.

The Prophesy had been a lie. And the trust--- he had failed.

Failed because he had never considered the possibility that the Oracle was a program.

Knowledge that he had accepted help from a program and never realized it shook his confidence to the core. How could he have not known the Oracle was a program, a machine? It was so obvious in retrospect; her abilities in predicting the future were uncannily accurate. So accurate that he had never questioned the source--- and ultimately, the prophesy of the war's end.

Not until Neo revealed the Prophesy as a lie did he start to question. And not until he saw a stranger claim to be the Oracle did the truth finally sink in…

Mopheus frowned. Why had the Oracle, a program, helped humans during the war, no matter how indirectly? There had been times, especially during the beginning, that the war could've been easily won by the machines. Yet the Oracle's advice had always helped Zion, and ultimately, humanity. Was her help a trick, a ruse?

At first glance, it seemed not. Yet…

And what of the conclusion of the war? Was it truly a victory, knowing that a program, a machine helped end the war? Or was the war's outcome, this peace, in the end another way for the machines to control humanity?

He feared it was.

The only thing that kept him from dwelling on such thoughts was the need to discover the fate of Neo. Through the whole war he had never lost faith in his friend, knowing how deeply Neo cared for Zion. That no matter what the cost Neo would somehow save Zion.

And thru the terrifying battle in Zion he held on to the belief that Neo would survive the war, and return to Zion. That both he and Trinity would return. Only when Trinity was found on the Logos did doubt creep in.

Thinking of Trinity, Morpheus felt as if a blade twisted in his gut, and his mind flinched from the painful memory of finding her. His thoughts turned to the other raw ache.

Now that he knew for certain that Neo was dead—he still couldn't believe or accept it.

Morpheus heard a shout and gunshots followed by another scream. Turning quickly, he saw the long black coat of the approaching figure and more--- he saw the pursuers. They wore dark suits and jackets, and moved with unnatural grace and speed.

Agents. Three of them.

A moment later they caught their target, a single agent on each side grabbing a shoulder, an arm, while the third agent a stood few paces back holding a gun at their target. Seeing the agents' still pose, Morpheus reacted, and pulled out a gun in each hand to shoot them.

Though deadly in motion, agents had a singular weakness. When focused on their prey, they could be surprised, and often reacted with humanlike speed. There was a moment when the two agents holding their target stiffened in surprise as they looked down at the red flowers that bloomed on their chests. The third agent dodged his bullet, returning fire while the other two agents collapsed to the ground. Morpheus snarled in frustration, moving to hide behind the tree that only a minute before he had admired, hearing the muffled impact of the bullets on the tree.

Hidden behind the tree Morpheus heard a single shot along with the unmistakable crack of breaking bone. Glancing around the tree he then saw the third agent crumple forward, his head twisted at a strange angle, neck broken. The target of the agent's pursuit dropped from a high-flying kick stance, his posture ready to continue battle with the fallen agents if they moved.

Morpheus also watched, waiting for an event to signal the fight's end.

Blue lightning surrounded the fallen agents and morphed into figures lying face forward ---changing into a small dead man, a dead elderly woman. Underneath each body grew a small pool of blood, while the third body changed into a teenage boy.

As always Morpheus felt a twinge of regret as he saw the lifeless bodies. He now realized with a sense of shock that his actions were unnecessary, that all Zionists except for him and Niobe were gone from the matrix. Whenever he had seen an agent, he knew it was stalking either him or a crewmember. Through the years it had become an automatic response-see an agent chase someone, attack to distract the agent from their target-- then flee.

Whom were the agents chasing? He turned to the approaching figure and froze. And his heartbeat, which rarely rose in risky situations, skyrocketed.

"Morpheus," said Smith slowly. "What a surprise."

tbc

* * *

Next: _Confrontation_


	7. Confrontation

**7 Confrontation**

_I watched as the codes changed, the green flame that shaped Brown and Jones flowed and melted away from the human hosts, a process that fascinated me. They lifted away, infinitely far and at the same time a breath away, a contradiction that made sense only within the matrix, seeing layer after layer repeating in endless array, giving three dimensions to one dimensional codes._

_The agents codes had stretched and thinned to near invisibility, and as I watched I saw where they led and decided to follow. My vision returned to normal, and I remembered the two that were left with me._

_They were huddled a small distance away, talking softly and furtively glancing at me. Catching my gaze the woman approached. Dressed in a gray business suit she said, "It sounds mad, but what's happened here? I had a blackout, and I never have them. Last thing I remember was walking to my car after work in the evening---and now I'm here and it looks like morning!" During the recital the woman's voice rose until it was a near shriek at the end. She covered her mouth with both hands, her face wild and distressed. Her short blonde hair fluttered in the wind._

_I said nothing. Listening to her distress made me automatically grab the shades in my coat, and I fought the urge to slip them on. I knew it would be rude, not to mention suspicious, to now wear them, yet the woman made me uncomfortable. _

_We both stared at one another, the woman's eyes growing larger and expression changing until it became unreadable to me. She turned abruptly and grabbed the sleeve of the other man. "Let's go." It was only when she looked at me again that I understood her emotion. It was panic._

_The man frowned at her, and then glared at me. Dressed in an ill-fitting brown suit that bulged around his middle, he jerked his sleeve away from the woman. "Are you the one that caused my blackout?"_

"_No." I stared at the man, and wondered if he would react oddly. The woman puzzled me, and I found her terror unsettling. I had done nothing to evoke such emotion. _

"_I don't believe you. You're hiding something!" The man's moon-like face turned a dark shade of red, and his beefy hand reached out to grab me. _

_I took a couple of steps away, deciding it was easier to avoid confrontation. I moved quickly, letting the world's motion slow a fraction, and watched the man's futile attempt to grab my coat._

_He tried it several times, fingers missing my coat by only fractions of an inch. His face turned a darker red as he screamed increasingly foul words as he hysterically reached for me and missed. On his last attempt he literally ran at me, his vast bulk lurching forward uncontrollably, gravel flying at his charge until his legs hit the roof's ledge. It was a ledge that I had easily hopped over, to stand on air. In his attempt to catch me the man saw the danger too late._

_His motion stopped for a second, arms comically wind milling in hopes of halting his onward plunge then he toppled over, falling toward the alley below. I grabbed his business jacket, pulling him back to the roof and tossed him toward the woman. The man fell on his back and moved feebly, stunned._

"_You're not human," the woman said as she knelt beside the prone body of the man. During the whole confrontation she only watched, never taking her eyes off me for a second._

"_Why believe that?" I was curious how she came to that conclusion._

"_Y-your feet. They haven't touched the roof since I've been here."_

_I looked down, and realized what she meant. Between the bottom of my soles and the roof were several inches of air. The sensory impression in the matrix was so rich and diverse, that to limit my exposure I had lifted myself off the gravel, and never noticed it._

"_I'm human enough to make a mistake." I felt embarrassed: an uncomfortable emotion. I wondered if I should let my feet rest on the gravel, but realized the damage was already done, and stayed as I was._

"_What are you?" the man was now sitting up, staring at me with crazed eyes. "Are you an alien?"_

"_Not really." To say any more would involve explanations about the matrix, something the Architect had forbidden. Yet the terror and speculation in the their eyes distressed me, and tore my inner emptiness a little larger._

_The woman pulled back as the man scrambled to his feet. "I'm going home," he said without looking at either of us. Gravel crunching as he moved, he stood in front of the entrance I arrived from then jerked the door open. A stairwell greeted my sight. He walked in and held the door open as the woman stood up and walked toward him._

"_Are you going to follow us?" the woman's voice trembled, as she paused to stare at me. _

"_No. You'll never see me again." The relief on her face was painful to see. I watched the door close on them, and stood in silence, listening to the noise of the city. The sound, remote and rumbling soothed my inner turmoil._

_My first contact with humanity was --- disquieting. And I wondered what memory of humans could be so terrible to be erased by the Architect. _

_Moments later I flew away._

_>>>>>>>>_

"Smith!" Morpheus whispered. He was momentarily surprised that he hadn't recognized the ex-agent, until he saw the reason why.

The area surrounding the program was blurred by shadows, a murky halo that warped form and hid details, blending with his business suit. As Smith stalked forward, the dark swirled around him, trailing from his motion like a cloak, pieces breaking off to disappear in the sunlight.

Against that gloom the ashen triangle of Smith' shirt looked like a paper cutout, its whiteness a support for his pallid face. The shades covering his eyes hollowed out his features, giving his face a gaunt, skull-like look.

"Well, well. Morpheus," Smith's voice was jarring because of its calm tone, the thin smile given to an acquaintance, not mortal enemies. "No dramatic statement or action?"

"Just this," said Morpheus. Both guns aimed at the program's chest, and he shot at least ten times until the clips was empty.

Smith dodged them all.

"Ineffective and pathetic, Morpheus. I expected better from you," he said after the last bullet. "Did you really think you could hurt me?"

"Realistically, no. But I thought they might." Morpheus said. Smith turned, a moment too late, and the agents caught his arms. Smith swiveled his head to study each program, his eyebrow raised in interest. The dark that clothed Smith had faded to nothing, and the ex-agent frowned as he spoke.

"Well, well. Agents Brown and Jones. Did the Architect send you to stop me?" Smith added with subtle distaste, "Or did he think to influence my 'human' emotions?"

"Smith, we're---I'm sorry," the smaller agent said. "The mainframe ordered---" Both agent and ex-agent lock gazes for a second, and then the agent dropped his head. "I'm sorry."

But Morpheus saw that despite everything said, the agents held Smith firmly in his grip. Conscious of his uncertain status within the matrix, Morpheus wondered if he should quietly escape, yet the drama unfolding before him was too compelling to miss.

"It's an agent's purpose," Smith said. "To follow the orders given by the mainframe." His voice contained faint traces of desolation and grief and left its stamp on his face.

"Silence, Anomaly," the taller agent said. "The Architect has ordered your deletion." His hand held a knife that glittered blindingly in the sun.

In the weapon's presence, the deadly rage and arrogance that normally cloaked Smith suddenly appeared and wiped his face free of all emotion. Seeing it, Morpheus instinctively went for his weapons, aborting the movement on remembering the guns were empty.

"Deletion?" Smith said. "Oh, I think not. Permit me to demonstrate a skill I recently acquired. One courtesy of Mr. Anderson." Darkness suddenly boiled around the renegade, a dark that latched onto the other agents to frame them for a second, until the two agents cried out in shock at what happened next.

Blue lightning flared over the two agents, changing their forms. The impressive agents shrank to white-haired old men, who clutched Smith's sleeves in disorientation.

"I won't be interrupted." Smith grabbed the old men by the scruff of their collars and flung them away. "Especially by obsolete human hosts." They landed on a suburban lawn twenty feet away. From the unnatural sprawl of limbs Morpheus knew they were dead.

Glancing downward, Morpheus saw the knife at his feet. Before he could even blink, Smith swooped down to pick up the knife, studying it.

"Hmm. The code in this weapon is dangerous," Smith mused. "Even to me." He dropped the weapon and stepped on it.

The knife blade shattered in a flash of green light along with Morpheus' emotional detachment. Conscious of the menace in the program's gaze, he realized the danger he was now in.

Flight was the only safe choice, yet with Smith just a couple of paces away, impossible to achieve. His chances of escape were nil, yet the thought of quietly surrendering went against everything he held dear. And while he had no hope for escape, he knew Niobe would easily evade Smith if the program was occupied with someone else.

So Morpheus attacked.

Savagely he threw punches, kicks that would've disabled any ordinary human. Smith easily countered every attack, making no attempt to retaliate, his expression hinting of boredom. Morpheus switched tactics and head butted the program, doing only enough damage to slightly skew the glasses on Smith's face and change the boredom to distain.

The next punch Morpheus threw Smith pulled and twisted at his left arm, dislocating it from the shoulder. And then Smith kicked his right kneecap, crushing bone with a sudden snap.

Morpheus tumbled away from the program in shock, falling on his back.

Smith calmly adjusted his shades and straightened his tie then pulled at his cuffs, indifferent to the fallen man. Suit and appearance flawless he then bent down to grasp Morpheus' coat lapels and pulled him carelessly to his feet.

Morpheus fought back a scream as his arm and leg started to blaze with pain at the movement. He tried to ignore the ache, compartmentalized it, knowing the throbbing pain would increase as the shock wore off. While the agony from his dislocated shoulder was great, it was nothing compared to the fire radiating from his shattered knee.

Morpheus was glad that the program kept his fist holding onto his coat, otherwise he knew he couldn't stand. His balance was uncertain as he wobbled on one leg, and his shattered knee grated in protest while the pain flared and flared again at every minute shift in balance. He heard Smith speaking, his voice a remote buzz in waves of mounting pain.

"It's surprising how fragile the human body and mind is." Smith said contemplatively. "Even you unplugged humans, you 'Zionist' who knows the truth of the unreality of this place, even you are affected by its rules. Especially the rules of pain, of death." Smith paused, and a small silence followed.

"Your point?" Morpheus rasped. He noted with interest that his agony had changed the surrounding to a greenish color, edged with a creeping black. Smith's face was looming moon in a darkening landscape, bisected with two black holes for eyes.

"Agents are programmed with the knowledge of how to inflict pain. And you feel pain, don't you Morpheus? Pain even when you know that you were never crippled, never injured in your real world. Part of you knows it's not real, while the other, well, the other part is ready to pass out from the agony."

"I can't allow that, I won't allow that. Time is not on my side." Darkness engulfed Morpheus' sight. For a second Morpheus thought he blacked out, until he felt a sharp flaring cold radiate from his knee. The freeze was immense but disappeared as the dark faded away, and with it all his pain from his knee. Sunlight and the world returned.

Blinking, Morpheus stared at Smith, who released his coat and took a few steps away from him. Looking down at his right knee, he cautiously shifted balance, surprised at the absence of agony. "Smith… what did you do? My knee- it doesn't hurt anymore. You healed it?" pain from his shoulder throbbed, a reminder that not all was well.

"I simply reordered the codes in your knee. Don't fool yourself into thinking I did it out of any kindness. I needed you aware, not unconscious from shock."

"Believe me, I'd never assume you capable of kindness." Morpheus said. Smith thinly smiled in response.

"Now, where were we Morpheus? Oh yes. You needed to assert your superiority over me, after which I disabuse you of that notion along with that of my ex-colleagues. Now that's finished, I plan to interrogate you—and this time," cold intensity burned through the dark glasses. "I will not be as patient or kind."

"You can ask your questions, Smith." Morpheus said. "But the question is---will I answer? I think not."

"Please. I know you would rather die before answering my question," Smith slipped off his shades and stared contemplatively at him. Morpheus felt a stab of unease, where once the ex-agent seemed a psychotic with fits of unmanageable rage, this Smith was---in control, and many times more dangerous. An expression of bitter amusement flickered briefly on the program's face. "Would it perhaps help to say that the information I seek wouldn't harm anyone from Zion?"

"No." At his reply Smith slipped his shades back on.

"As I expected." Smith's quiet, matter-of-fact tone was chilling "Therefore, I will take my answer anyway. And if we're interrupted by your friends, I will kill them—very painfully—as you watch."

Morpheus' eyes narrowed. "I will die before I reveal any information, Smith. I will never talk."

"Never?" Smith's voice slightly mocked. "But my method had nothing to do with your talking. And everything to do with your thinking about the information I need."

"What?"

"The code of a person's thoughts can be easily read, especially by one who sees the matrix, and thereby controls it."

"Impossible! Even Neo—"

"Zion's savior had the ability, Morpheus. He never had the time or desire to develop it. I did. It's yet another skill I acquired from him, and was given quite willingly, I might add."

"You're lying, Smith! Neo would never—"

"What makes you think I would do such a human thing as lie, Morpheus?" Smith said, then lifted his eyebrow in surprise. "You suspect the Oracle has lied to you? How interesting."

Morpheus stared in quietly dawning horror, as the program continued, shaking his head in derisive sympathy.

"No, the Oracle has never spoken a word of untruth, but what she never said---that could fill mountains."

"I will not believe—"

"Believe what you wish, I don't care. I only want the answer to my question." Smith said. The shadows devoured the sunlight to enfold both in a private darkness. Morpheus turned to escape, regardless of consequences, but Smith grabbed and wrenched his dislocated arm, evicting a strangled scream from clenched teeth. The program seized his collar, dragging Morpheus' head forward to whisper in his ear.

"Where is he? Where is Mr. Anderson?"

Morpheus froze in shock, pain forgotten at the question. Smith released his collar, stepping away, the darkness fading into bright sunlight, and watched the Zionist.

"Where is he?" repeated Morpheus, feeling a smile twist his mouth. He saw the program glare at him, and knew that Smith was reading his thoughts.

On Smith's face was a grimace of rage and frustration. "Are you insane? There is so such place in the matrix."

And Morpheus, quite out of character, began to laugh.

tbc

* * *

Next: _Falling_


	8. Falling

A/N: Oops. I forgot to mention last chapter that the 'place' Smith reads from Morpheus was Wonderland, from '_Alice in Wonderland_.' Or, if you're so inclined, it can be either one of the two places where Keanu' character in _Constantine_ visited. (i.e. Heaven or Hell)

**8 Falling**

_Flight in the matrix was everything I dreamed. Mankind's tall earthbound building shrank in size as I flew up higher in the atmosphere of the matrix. Soon the buildings looked like nothing but children's blocks, a faint haze of smog clouding the grid-like outline of the city._

_It was amusing to see how small and insignificant things could seem. The air was crisp and cold, the chill numbing and exhilarating. I paused in my endless ascent, and slowly spun around to survey the panoramic view._

_It was… magnificent. The sky was a rich blue, while below me the earth was a patchwork of dun colors- a medley of brown, gray and yellow. Overlaying the land was scraps of clouds, shredded pieces of fluff that slowly moved as I watched. _

_As my eyes absorbed everything and I held myself motionless in the air, I sensed the quiet. Despite the wind whispering in my ear, I felt a deep and endless silence, an immense stillness that contained… forever._

_And I recognized it. _

_My effortless command of the matrix was lost, consumed by a wave of memories, emotions that welled up in me to fall with lethal force. Phantom agony flashed across my eyes, causing me to involuntarily hold my hands against my eyes. In the darkness I recalled, and remembered words:_

_"Beautiful…" a woman whispered. It was then I heard the silence, the deep echo of eternity._

"_Trinity, what is it?" _

_She answered—a shadow, unknown ghost of the past, "It's the sky, Neo. I see the sky," her voice was laced with awe, amazement. From her joy I caught the lingering beauty of her vision. For one moment I see her face, the delicate arch of eyebrows over large blue eyes and then like a dream, the memory fades. And wondered, why can't I remember her face? And why can't I see the sky?_

_Another memory surfaced; a dim memory of a woman falling, plummeting from a great height. As she fell she shot at a pursuing agent--- a program also falling and returning her fire. There was cold fury and desperation in every line of her body, then the agent shot a bullet---and I saw in slow motion the bullet piercing her chest, her features twisted in agony and shock. And still she fell…_

_"No! Trinity!" Grief and loss filled me with a pain so great it was like a killing blow. And I knew that Trinity was dead. But who was she? I never remember her face moments after recall, yet like all my memories, they leave more questions than answers. Was that truly an agent shooting her? And why does her death hurt me so? What had this woman meant to me, no—not me but my earlier version?_

_I came out of my daze abruptly, feeling my body falling, the wind howling in my ears. Uncurling my hands from my face I opened my tearing eyes against the wind's pressure. The ground rushed toward me with shocking speed, the lines and blocks of the city expand by the second. _

_I'm falling. I'm falling and gonna to end up as street pizza! I'm falling like Trinity! The words rang in my mind with paralyzing force, as I stare at the expanding landscape. The edges of city now take a slightly two dimensional shape as the land directly below began to reveal more detail, the rectangles revealing themselves as city blocks and smaller squares appeared within the enlarging squares._

_Roof tops, I realized, the ground is seconds away. I then reached for the ability to manipulate the matrix. Yet the skill that had seemed so easy minutes before eluded my grasp, as I also dealt with the residue of emotions. The despair at the lost of Trinity, the joy of the sky--- all these feelings disrupted my command of the matrix. And now the fear of death clashed with tumultuous emotions and memories, as I fought to stop my descent._

_I failed. _

_And watched as the ground, a two lane road, set between two blocks of single homes widen from a thin ribbon, to a larger band, lengthening until it expanded into a wall that I was seconds away from hitting…_

_It's not real, my mind suddenly screamed, you're not falling to your death! I closed my eyes and realized, no felt--without doubt or uncertainty, it was true. From the depths of my turmoil, a shadow emerged and touched the matrix for a brief second._

_Seconds past as the expected fatal impact never happened, and the motion of falling had stopped. I opened my eyes to see a dark gray wall in front of me, the surface a lumpy texture with white pebbles occasionally seen. Reaching out to touch the surface I felt the gritty texture, it's warmth. _

_It's the road. The moment I realized that gravity caught me, and I fell—I had stopped my fatal plunge less than arms-length from the road, and simply dropped to the ground._

_Shaking from the excess emotion and adrenaline, I cautiously stood up, and dusted myself off. The screech of tires and the long blast of a horn erupted behind me and I turned to look at a compact car. I stared at a frowning face behind a dark windshield, flinching as he used the horn again._

_For one second I think to pay disrespect with equal rudeness. It's easy to alter the matrix code and stop the car from working. Easier still to pick up the car and shake it's occupant like a rattle. Or just pick up the car and toss it upside down. All choices tempt me as the driver blasts the horn for the third time, a long explosion that leave my ears ringing at the end._

_But I chose the easiest and most difficult action; I step off the road and watch the car drive away. The driver never looked at me again._

_Humans. My second encounter with them is no more pleasant than the first. I wondered if the Architect was right, that any memory of humans from my predecessor should be altered, even deleted. _

_Yet did I want the memory of Trinity gone? I only remember fragments, yet what I do recall--- haunts me. And somehow fills my emptiness._

_I must think on it._

_>>>>>>>>_

"That was unexpected. We were deleted from the host body." Jones said. Running internal diagnostics he checked his position. He was surprised to note that they were only a few miles away from their previous location, within a private home. It would only take them moments to return to confront their former leader.

"What is unexpected is that Smith did not fragment our code." Brown answered, staring at the fork he held in his hand. On the fork's tines the lettuce shone with olive oil. Dropping it on the table with a clatter, he stood up from the chair to cross the room. Brown then moved the curtains to look out the front window and scanned the street.

"I was surprised at-at the Virus' power," Jones said. Other than being forcibly expelled from the human host he realized nothing within his system was changed or deleted. While reassuring, it was also troubling, an observation he didn't want to analyze.

"The Virus? You mean Smith. Why not say his name? You never say his name. Why?" Brown turned away from the window to stare at him. Jones matched his gaze.

"Because he's an exile and Virus, Brown. I accepted his orders when he was under mainframe control. The moment he stopped obeying orders is when Agent Smith died to me. Now only the Virus is left. Only a anomaly of the matrix. Like before." Jones found it odd that Brown rarely liked to communicate through the earpiece. Much like Smith had been before he went rogue.

"You said, 'Smith died.' That is a human expression Jones." Brown said quietly.

"So?" Jones challenged the other. Brown stared for a moment until he faintly shrugged his shoulders. Brown then returned his gaze to the window, ignoring Jones intense glare.

Never communicating through the earpiece seemed odd until Jones realized it helped to keep certain thoughts hidden. Commands like the ones the Architect had given each of them, concerning their one-time leader.

"Don't you think our situation is strange?" Brown said, his eyes fixed firmly on the window.

Jones stared silently.

"Smith ran when we were to be returned to the source. But the Architect has since reactivated us. The question is, why?"

"We are needed to guard Mr. Anderson." Jones said promptly. He was relieved to give an answer that didn't cause him to scan for glitches. Since Agent Smith turned an exile, it had almost become a compulsion to check his memory. To observe Brown for emerging flaws and wonder if either of them would turn out to be corrupted like their former partner.

It had been a relief when they had both willingly returned to the source. Yet since his reactivation, he noted how… emotional Brown had become. Just like Smith had been before his exile.

"There are upgraded agents to perform the job. And our instructions, don't you consider them… strange?" Brown said his head tilted as he finally turned his attention back to his partner.

"No, I do not." Jones said. He then sent a message through his earpiece. _And I won't talk about this! Please Brown, I do not want to be deleted!_ But as Jones half expected, Brown ignored the sending and continued.

"Why were we sent to attack Smith as soon as we reached the matrix? The Architect knows how powerful Smith has become. We couldn't defeat Smith and the Architect knows this. But we were ordered to attack him if Mr. Anderson wasn't nearby to see our fight. Our following orders make even less sense. And why were we also given separate orders? There must be a reason."

"Brown—" Jones said.

"I know we're not to discuss our separate orders. But… let me check with the mainframe about something," the smaller agent lifted his hand to his earpiece.

"What are you inquiring about?"

"The other agents status." Silence reigned until Jones noted the change in the other's expression.

"Brown?" it disturbed him that Brown's face was showing emotion.

"Three agents are missing from the matrix. Like the others they are presumed terminated, codes deleted." Brown's voice was hard, echoing the expression on his face.

"Three agents? Others?"

"Yes, the agents in pursuit of Smith before we arrived. Let me check on another fact from the mainframe." Jones waited as a remote stillness settled over the smaller agent, until a minute later a surprising event occurred.

"Brown? Why are you shaking? Are you malfunctioning?" Jones watched with alarm as the other agent's hands trembled until they clenched into fists.

"I queried the mainframe about how many agents are active in the matrix. Including us, there are only… two." Brown's voice was steady, yet Jones noted that his face seemed paler than normal, a ghostly mask behind dark shades.

"Two? Are you saying that we are the only agents left?"

"Yes."

"Impossible." Jones said. "The Architect need only reboot---" Brown shook his head in reply.

"Jones, all the upgraded agents codes have been deleted, expunged from the matrix." Brown added reluctantly. "Possibly erased by Smith." Jones knew that for Brown to even mention the theory made it all but certain. The mainframe rarely dealt with ambiguities.

"There's a master template for each agent. The Architect can-" Jones continued until interrupted by Brown.

"The mainframe stated that reactivation of agent programs is counterproductive. Until a newer upgrade can be written and loaded, agents are low priority. And you know our orders."

"This is--" _wacked, crazy, insane_. Internally Jones ran through those words and left them unsaid. While appropriate to the situation, they were emotional, something he wanted to avoid. He started again. "What can we do against the Virus- against Smith? He defeated upgraded agents, programs more advanced than us. What can we do?"

"What we always do, Jones. We obey orders. What else can we do? Run?" Brown said.

"It's a thought." The words hung burning in the air between them. They stared at each other for endless minutes until someone began to pound on the front door.

"Agent Brown? Jones?" called a voice thru the door.

"Neo Anderson. You followed us?" Jones opened the front door and surveyed their assignment. Leaning casually against the doorframe, Anderson looked rumpled, the gray of his suit and black duster smudged with traces of dirt. Jones noted how much more human he looked, his face faintly smiling at them.

"Yeah, I grew tired of waiting. I notice your codes were disrupted for a second a while back. Was there trouble?" Neo looked curiously at both programs.

He could see their code. Until then, Jones had felt a sort of distant contempt about Anderson, like he did with all humans. He had put the earlier destruction of Smith in the hallway as a fluke of circumstance, a one in a million chance. No human could ever be the equal of any program, no matter what they could do. Even the ability to stop bullets didn't impress him. Knowledge that Neo was under the Architect's control only strengthened his estimation.

That Anderson could see code shattered that opinion. Only the most advanced and powerful programs could see code. And the knowledge that the human could interpret code was…frightening.

For the first time Jones understood Smith's need to destroy this human.

"Trouble?" Brown repeated.

It was a comfort for Jones that both he and Brown activated their earpieces to act as one unit, especially when in the presence of others. Yet the security faded knowing they both held certain data partitioned and hidden away.

As one both agents exchanged glances and info and this last thought.

_We do our duty—our purpose. We follow orders._

_For now._

Jones was uncertain where the last thought came from.

tbc

* * *

Next: _Questions Revealed_


	9. Questions Revealed

A/N: Thanks to Eyes in sky for pointing out my mistake. Corrections are always appreciated.

**9 Questions Revealed**

_Something is… different._

_I don't understand what has changed but the matrix feels… wrong. Hours before it had seemed warm even welcoming to my senses. Yet now… I feel confined here, constricted even._

_What has changed?_

_Is it me? Or rather, the knowledge I've gained from exploring the matrix, and recalling my previous avatar's memories. That's why things have changed. For a time, I've felt odd—incomplete._

_And didn't understand the emptiness, until I remembered Trinity. Memories that are only scraps, slivers from my predecessor, showed how deeply I, no— he loved her. And had also watched her die, for the grief that rolls out of some fragments is sharp, the pain that splinters the mind into nothingness. It's a bleak darkness, one that makes me understand why the Architect considers the memories of humans---expendable and to be deleted._

_But I do not. Perhaps I would have thought the same, if not for another memory, one with Trinity smiling. It is a vague memory, yet with it another emotion fills me, an emotion that warms and fills the emptiness._

_I know it was love. And I will not, cannot give up the memory of love and of Trinity. _

_My next step is obvious. I must find the only other human I remember, the black man whom always evoked a mixture of dread and responsibility within me._

_Once I find him I'll ask what he knew of the past and hope he knew Trinity._

_>>>>>>>>_

"Yes, there was trouble." Jones said. "However, our primary charge is to acclimate you to the matrix. Do you wish to return to the Architect's sanctuary?" he added, hoping to end this assignment, yet if orders were to be followed—

"No, not yet. Do you know of any man who fits this description?" and then Anderson gave a detailed description that Jones recognized and dreaded.

"Morpheus. His name is Morpheus." Brown answered.

The human's eyes brightened. "Yeah, that sounds right. Morpheus," he straightened up from the doorframe. "Where can I find him?"

"We strongly advise you not to seek him. He is with the program that destroyed your predecessor." Jones said, conscious of Brown's stare.

"The program? Do you mean the virus?" Anderson said.

"Smith. Before his exile he was an agent, and our unit's leader." Brown said, before Jones could formulate a reply.

_Brown, did you have to tell him that?_ Jones sent thru the earpiece.

_He deserved to know._

"I see." Anderson said. "So that's why your codes seem incomplete."

"Incomplete?" Jones repeated, feeling shaken. He noted that Brown also froze, as if his data processors glitched.

"Just… that your codes are less—balanced, complex in some areas. There seems to be something missing. It's hard to describe," the human added, with a faint frown studying them.

What did the human see? Jones internally debated about talking any further with Anderson. Just a few minutes of conversation was disrupting his logic and emotion interface.

"You're saying that Morpheus is with Smith, the program that destroyed my predecessor?

How do you know?" Anderson added with sudden realization. "That's why your code was interrupted a while back, wasn't it? You were sent to deal with Smith. But you couldn't, could you?"

Why was Anderson so hard to deal with? It was then Jones realized that what his orders and his threat assessment were demanding two different actions. And to follow either choice would have dire consequences.

"The place you met, it's not far off," the human added.

"Mr. Anderson…" Jones said knowing his words was futile. Whatever happens, Jones thought, it was for a purpose, the Architect's purpose. He just hoped Brown would survive. He had no illusions for himself.

"Let's go visit Morpheus and Smith." Anderson said.

>>>>>>>>

Morpheus laughed despite the consequences. It was a full belly laugh, scorn and barely contained hysteria roared from him, until Smith's fingers grabbed his throat, shutting off laughter and air.

Desperate for oxygen, Morpheus struggled to loosen Smith' iron hold, all the while knowing it was futile. Moments before he would have blacked out, the Zionist found himself collapsed on his knees, dragging huge gulps of air.

When his breathing quieted, Smith lifted him to his feet by his coat's lapels, coldly glaring into his face from inches away.

"What's so humorous, rebel?" Smith's eyes burned even through the shades. "I thought your situation a minute ago was amusing. A human's life can be terminated so simply, so easily. Just by keeping him from breathing for a few short minutes a human can die. Unless you give me answers I will continue. So tell me, why are you laughing, Morpheus? Answer me."

"You, your questions. That's what funny, Smith!" Morpheus said boldly to the program.

"Explain yourself, human." Morpheus saw a hint of confusion on the other's face. Smith released his grip and shoved him a few paces back.

"Neo is dead. He's dead and you killed him… you machine." Morpheus said, bitterness in his voice.

Smith regarded him expressionlessly. "I admit I tried to kill him and succeeded. I killed him twice, as he did me. But do I think or believe that he is dead? No."

"What?" Morpheus turned an incredulous glare at him. Feeling a suddenly hope, a suspicion well up within him.

"He is not dead." Smith stated. "I would know if Mr. Anderson was dead. I would sense it, smell it. Who told you this? The Oracle?" Smith nodded, though Morpheus never moved. "So she did tell you that, did she? Do you know at one time I had all her memories? It was surprising to learn how much she manipulated you 'free humans.' Just by offering her help, her services- she moved the machine's agenda forward that much faster. And do you know what her purpose was?"

"To create the One." He said, feeling chilled, as his unease came into sharper focus.

"Yes, to create the One. Do you know why, Morpheus?" Smith asked, amusement faintly coloring his voice.

"I never asked. The question was irrelevant at the time," he said, hearing a shadowy whisper, _you must ask the right question_.

"You never asked. And you still trust her?" Smith was now openly smiling, a disturbing expression with his dark shades.

The question hung mockingly in the silence as they both stared at the other.

"So the great Morpheus can make mistakes. How predictably human. How pathetic. Well, our business is concluded. I have no further questions." Smith turned and slowly started to walk away.

"Smith, you—" Morpheus blocked his path, careless of the danger. "You have no plans to kill me?" For the first time in minutes, he noticed the pain of his dislocated shoulder, but ignored everything in the search for answers, for truth.

Smith stared at him. "No, why should I? You are useless, without the information I need. To kill you would be a waste of time, and utterly pointless. You are free to leave the matrix and return to Zion." As Smith attempted to walk away, Morpheus again blocked his path.

"Are you truly expressing a death wish Morpheus?" Smith asked softly.

"Being in the matrix, unplugged, always insinuates that mindset," he dryly answered. "No, I need answers, Smith. Why are you looking for Neo? Is it to kill him like you did before?"

"Kill him?" Smith voice was laced with a dark amusement. "Why should I kill the One, Morpheus? The One is a creature of the matrix, of which I was once a guardian. He is after all, an invention, a fabrication of the matrix. If the Oracle's memory serves me correctly, centuries of machine data have gone into his creation. Enough data to make the matrix seem like child's play."

Morpheus stared at him, feeling a horror grow. The One is a… program? "No, I refuse to believe that. He's human. Neo is a human!"

"One fact does not preclude the other," said Smith.

"But why?" Morpheus breathed. "Why would the machines—" and recalled Neo admit: _the One is another system of control._

"For the ultimate reason anything is done." Smith said, pausing before adding.

"Control. Power."

tbc

* * *

Next: _Smith's Truth_


	10. Smith's Truth

**10 Smith's Truth**

Let me tell you a story, human— a quite interesting story. It involves an enforcer program or an agent to be more precise. The agent pursues a human a rebel named Thomas A. Anderson and kills him. He kills him with nine shots from his gun. End of story, usually, but this human, a seemingly unimportant human does not stay dead. Far from it. This Mr. Anderson, unknown to either the agent or himself is a product of a vast machine design.

You protest that it can't be the truth Morpheus? That your precious Mr. Anderson, the savior of Zion, the One of Prophesy, can't be of machine make? Well-consider this, what of those plugs in your arms? Do you think you're a 'man born of woman' in the true sense?

No, you and most of Zion are 'pod born,' created and bred from machine production. From birth you are nurtured with one purpose in mind, to provide energy for machines to survive on. You pod born are 'coppertops' as Zionist's say, the generator for machine kind. From cradle to grave, most of mankind is asleep, dreaming in the matrix, dreaming lives that are created from machine data.

Is it improbable that a man born and bred from this system would become necessary for that very system's survival? That his uniqueness is a consequence of centuries of data, that all that he is—all that he ever was came from his response to his environment, his life and his programming? Programming that machines developed?

You glare at me with hatred Morpheus, but you sense the truth of it don't you. Your emotions might shout a denial but your mind—that feeble container of human logic can't deny the possibility, the probability of it. The truth hurts, doesn't it?

How amusing.

Still don't believe? Consider the Oracle. The knowledge that she is a program came as a shock to you, didn't it? I have her memories and what they show of your face—well, it was quite a sight. You had no knowledge what her true nature was. The staunchest supporter of Zion within the matrix was a machine, a program. A program who guided 'the last free humans' with her Prophesy. The irony of it!

You don't want to hear anymore Morpheus? Why, it's the truth--- something you rebel's so loudly proclaim you want. Ah, you don't want to talk about her, the Oracle. Understandable, no human likes being made a fool, especially by a thing they hate.

The Oracle's memory has many facts you might find interesting. One is that this is the sixth version of the matrix.

Yes, the sixth version. And in all of them they had a 'One,' a savior of Zion. Surprised? You shouldn't be, machines are very efficient.

So Anderson did tell you a little of the One's purpose. The One is the result of the unbalanced equation within the Matrix. He is humanity's unconscious demand involving choice. According to a certain mathematical construct he is nothing more than an anomaly arising from a defect of the equation.

But according to the Oracle, the One is something more, something much more. And such power will blaze even in your reality, Morpheus.

You've already seen signs of it, haven't you? Little wonder the Architect sought to control him. The last time I saw him Zion's savior was conquered, a captive of the source. I saw the knowledge of his coming fate—the doom of being stripped of his humanity--- screaming from his eyes.

But like our last battle, he would not accept defeat, and did the unexpected.

What did he do? In his last moments, he freed me in hopes of my completing a task, a choice to help him win his own freedom- or his destruction.

>>>>>>>>

"You didn't answer my question. Are you planning to harm Neo?" Morpheus asked.

"No. But that's not to say he won't be harmed or killed. When we next meet, I shall do exactly what he planned. I will free him, one way or another." And Smith smiled unpleasantly.

"Free him? And—" Morpheus started until interrupted by the impossible. He watched in disbelief as his shadow suddenly shifted position, changing angles as he looked down at the movement. It was then he realized that all shadows had moved from one direction and then reversed course, and as he looked up into the sky, he watched the sun bounce back to its earlier location.

"The matrix…" said Smith. "Has suffered a glitch." Narrowly the ex-agent scanned the environment, his mouth a thin, taunt line. "Several of them, both from different sources."

"Incredible," Morpheus whispered. What would cause such a massive de ja vue? The only thing of interest nearby— his thoughts faltered as he raised his eyes toward the house he exited minutes before.

From the sidewalk the cement steps led to an empty lot with homes on either side. The grass in the empty lot was a neglected yellowish green, seemingly trampled as if people had paraded in the center where a house would've stood.

Had stood.

Swallowing dryly, Morpheus then whispered, "Niobe. She was in the Oracle's house. And now it's not there anymore." A chill wave started to flood his being and he began to move toward the empty lot until Smith grabbed the arm of his dislocated shoulder.

Stifling a yelp of pain he pried the other's fingers off and glared at the program until he realized Smith was paying no attention to him. The furious words died on his lips as he noticed Smith's eerie mixture of wariness, apprehension and glee.

He slowly turned around to look at what held the program's gaze.

Morpheus beheld the face of a ghost.

Neo.

tbc

* * *

Next: _Decision Made_


	11. Decision Made

**11 Decision Made**

"_No. You will not go see the Virus or Morpheus." Agent Jones said._

_I studied the enforcer program. "Why?" Agent Jones had become increasingly tense since I mentioned my ability to read code. His face was cold and expressionless, but his hands clenched as I spoke._

"_The Architect does not want you to meet Smith, the virus." Agent Brown said. Looking at Brown I noted his mild, almost scholarly air as he spoke. While not as vocal as Jones, I sensed he also disliked the idea._

"_But it can't be so hazardous. Morpheus is meeting Smith, and he's only human." I said in protest._

"_Morpheus was named the most dangerous man on the planet at one point." Jones stated grimly._

_Dangerous? In all my fragmented memories, I never associated the feeling of danger with this man. The strongest feeling I had about Morpheus was responsibility, a burden that was somehow mine alone._

"_So how did my predecessor get to know Morpheus?" It was an idle question, one that I had no expectation that they could answer. Surprisingly, I felt both agents exchange incredible amounts of data in a few seconds before they answered._

"_It is a long story and we are not sure of the details." Jones said. A beat afterward Brown added. "You should ask the Architect."_

_I stared silently at them while comprehension dawned. They knew! They knew my predecessor's history, and were not willing to share it with me. Worse, they had no intention of revealing any knowledge until I brought up the subject._

_At our first meeting I realized they recognized me and assumed it was only a passing acquaintance. Yet the very fact that they were not prepared to say anything hinted at more than a mere recitation of data given by the Architect. It spoke of personal experience._

_They had known my predecessor and never planned to mention it. The agents who were ordered to protect me--- did not trust me._

_The fact hurt. And tore my emptiness larger._

_It was then I felt smothered, almost choking in the presence of these agents and their regard. I needed to escape, to leave and take control of my feelings of abandonment and despair._

_Perhaps at one time their distrust wouldn't have hurt so. Yet without memory, a history to proclaim who I was, all I had was the Architect and the agents. The Architect seemed too remote to understand and now that I realized the agents feelings, I was cut off from everything._

_I felt alone. To combat the feeling I needed to accomplish something important, to recover a past, a history._

_So I decided to see Morpheus._

_Decision made, I recognized the most immediate obstacle to my plan were the agents. Since the moment I appeared on the doorstep, Jones kept his gaze firmly pinned on me, while Brown's attention was the scenery outside the window, except for the few times he spoke to me._

_Yet while things were peaceful I knew it could change in an instant. The fragmented memory involving Trinity and the unknown agent hinted at many things, but nothing of life and everything of death._

_The thought of death, of anyone's death, whether of Agent Brown or Agent Jones hurts, and makes me think of Trinity. Just what was she to my predecessor? Even the fragmented memory of her dominates my heart with a shadow--- a sorrow I can't comprehend._

"_Neo Anderson. Is something wrong?" Jones said, frowning. Gazing at the agent, I understood one thing. With the Architect's order to guard, both agents would relentlessly follow me, letting nothing or no one stop them._

_Nothing would halt the agents unless I did the unexpected, and left them no trail to follow. It was a thin hope, for they knew I wanted to find Morpheus. Yet even a few minutes alone with the man in question could tell me much._

_I shook my head in response to Agent Jones' question and to clear my head._

_So how would I escape? Flight in the matrix could be visually tracked. And a vague memory of flying at fantastic speeds and the chaos it left behind makes flight a choice of last resort. The memory of flight, though eye blurring also seemed motionless, as if I wanted more speed to reach my destination._

_I needed something a little more subtle and quick._

_Shifting my vision to the green code I stared at it until a whispery thought appeared. Three dimensions in one dimensional codes. In the matrix, was there truly a dimension for distance? Certainly there was a code to indicate distance, but did it matter if I was one second here and the next, a mile away?_

_I didn't think so._

_A chill suddenly filled me, and I sensed that what I wanted to do was hazardous. Extremely hazardous. Yet was it possible to do? I searched my memory in hopes of an answer. The vision of a cold golden face glared at me for a second, as I realized the answer._

_Yes, but only if I was precise about where I wanted to go. And I knew exactly where I needed to go, what codes I must see._

"_I'll see you later, Agent Jones, Agent Brown." I said. Then concentrating, I delicately sliced and parted the matrix code, clearing the way until I reached the code I needed. Then I stepped from the house to a sunny street._

_>>>>>>>>_

"Neo! You're alive!" Morpheus whispered. A small smile erupted on his face as he automatically started toward his friend, until he felt Smith's hand on his shoulder. Looking at the program, he saw Smith frown.

"Careful rebel. You do not know his condition."

"I'm saying this only once, Smith. Let go," Morpheus said flatly.

Smith released his shoulder, "Use your eyes, then. There is something wrong."

"The only thing wrong---" Morpheus stopped, then drew a deep breath. "Never mind. I'll deal with this." The joy was replaced by doubt that grew deeper as Neo walked slowly toward him.

A walk that seemed subtly wrong. His movements were stiff, heavy. There was no indication of the One's power, ability that made every movement light and graceful, the control of one barely bound by the laws of the matrix.

Nor was there any tension, the self-imposed discipline that chilled Neo's face into an impassive mask. Instead, the younger man's face was simply empty of expression, and more disturbingly, so were his eyes.

"Morpheus," Neo said to him. "Your name is Morpheus, right?" He turned and looked at Smith. "And you're the Virus, Smith?" the ex-agent grinned mirthlessly in response.

"Neo, don't you recognize who I am?" even as the question tumbled from his lips Morpheus saw the truth. The initial impression of seeing a ghost, a pallid imitation of his friend deepened the longer he stared at Neo. Despite the well-known features, Morpheus felt as if he was meeting a stranger. An uneasy feeling filled his heart.

Neo shook his head in seeming regret. "My previous avatar did. I only remember fragments, enough to recognize you. I asked Agent Brown for your name."

"Avatar?" Morpheus mouthed. He involuntarily took a step back.

"Agent Brown? Where is he? And Agent Jones?" Smith broke in abruptly. Morpheus watched as Smith studied his adversary and saw the wary tension in the ex-agent's body as he moved a step closer to the other.

"They are in a house. A few miles from here." Neo said. He stood woodenly, in stark contrast to Smith's liquid grace. Morpheus was chilled by the comparison between them. If he didn't know better he would've guessed Smith the human, and Neo the program.

"Did you destroy them?" Smith said in a measured pace, his tone heightening Morpheus' unease.

"Destroy? No. They wouldn't allow me to find Morpheus, so I left them behind." Neo said, and slightly tilted his head to one side in curiosity. "They feared I would meet you."

Smith relaxed on hearing Neo's answer. "Then they'll be here any minute." Smith said. "We need to talk now, Mr. Anderson."

"About what?"

"We are enemies, bitter adversaries. You loathed me, as I hated and despised you. And we hated each other enough to kill each other, twice in fact."

"That said, after our last battle, I had been scheduled for deletion by the source. You saved me from this fate, Mr. Anderson." Smith added, his voice quietly accusing. "When you could not escape yourself, you gave me the choice of escape and freedom or staying and being deleted." He paused a moment, and his mouth twisted as if he ate something bitter. "I choose freedom."

During the speech, Neo's stillness was eerie, and he stirred only after Smith finished. "And now? What do you want from me, Smith? Another battle to the death?"

"As much as I would enjoy that, no. What I need, what I'm compelled to do- is to return something to you." Smith's right arm slowly lifted, showing a clenched fist. Turning his hand palm upward, he unclenched his fingers. Cradled in his palm, was a sphere the size of a marble. Even in the sunlight it shimmered with a gold light, its radiance pulsing like a heart.

"What is it?" For the first time, Morpheus saw a shadow of emotion cross Neo's face. Curiosity, and was there also—recognition?

"Your memories."

"Memories?" Neo drifted closer to Smith, his eyes caught by the glowing sphere. "These memories are from the previous avatar, my predecessor."

Morpheus breathed out quietly in despair.

"No. They _are_ your memories Mr. Anderson." Smith's voice was iron-clad certainty.

Neo shook his head. "The Architect said that I am the second version of your enemy."

"Yes, in a sense you are. A pale, colorless copy of Mr. Anderson." Smith said with a dark sneer. "One I'd have no problem in defeating."

Neo's answer was a challenging frown and a movement that ended in a fighting stance.

It was a look and movement so familiar that Morpheus caught his breath, and realized Smith spoke the truth---- the man before them was Neo, without his memory.

Smith smirked and continued. "Yet a computer that has been reformatted with new software is still the same, even without all its original data." Smith's gaze intensified while his voice lowered. "A human brain is infinitely more complex, and would retain fragments, despite the memory purge."

Neo's stance relaxed minutely, as he listened to the ex-agent's hypnotic voice.

"Hmm, but you understand that, don't you? You want the answers for the fragments you do remember." The program waved the golden sphere. "Here is your answer. This is your memory, your thoughts, and your past."

Neo stared at the glowing light. "I have had… questions. But these memories---" Hesitantly, he relaxed his stance as his hand reached out to hover over the object, indecision clear on his face. "Are they truly mine? Can I trust you?"

"The answer to that question is your choice, Mr. Anderson." Smith said, a mocking malice clear in his voice. "Your decision."

The door of a nearby home suddenly smashed open as the two agents poured out of the front door, guns drawn.

"Step away from the Virus, Neo Anderson," the taller agent ordered. "Now."

tbc

* * *

Next: _Remembrance_


	12. Remembrance

**12 Remembrance**

At the agent's voice, Neo stopped reaching toward the golden sphere. Raising his eyes he threw a glance at the agents, posed a dozen feet beyond Smith, guns aimed. The ex-agent in turn drops his hand, hiding the sphere, his face a grimace of frustration that he quickly changed to stony blankness.

Morpheus standing beside Smith brought out a gun, tossing an empty clip and promptly reloading the gun, one handed. He takes a measured step away, narrowly eyeing the agents and Smith, though he does not reveal his weapon again after the reload.

"Agent Jones. I was wondering if you and Brown would show up. Your reaction time has deteriorated since I was your leader. I was expecting you for the last five minutes." Standing with his back toward the agents, Smith' posture was arrogance personified. Only the thin set of his mouth hinted at emotion.

"Smith, leave this area immediately. Or face deletion." Slowly he and the smaller agent walked forward, guns shining in the morning light.

"No, Agent Jones." Smith said, turning his head to the side to look over his shoulder. "I will not leave. Mr. Anderson and I have business to conclude. So I would advise you not to try and stop me. Otherwise, I might be forced to permanently damage you."

"Smith—" the smaller agent said. Both agents lifted their guns and fired twice.

Neo lifted his palm. The bullets hang motionless in the air, inches away from hitting Smith, who is seemingly indifferent to the bullets, ignoring them as he intently studied Neo. The bullets drop harmlessly to the street as Neo lowers his hand.

"So—you still have _those_ memories. Do you remember the first time you stopped bullets? It was just moments before you destroyed me," Smith said, ending the last sentence in a nearly inaudible snarl. "_For the first time_."

Neo stared back with a faint frown of puzzlement. "No, I don't remember. I don't even remember you. I just knew how to stop bullets. But there is something I don't understand."

Smith's eyebrows lifted.

"If you hate me so much, why help me? Why return my memories?"

"Because, Mr. Anderson, I hate the knowledge of owing you my freedom more. To owe you anything, much less my life—is anathema to me," Smith answered with a glare that burned even through his shades. He lifted up his hand once more, golden light pouring between his fingers. "Now reclaim your memories. Retake your life---balance the debt between us."

"Do not trust the virus, Neo Anderson! It is a trap, a ploy to lower your defenses!" Agent Jones said. He was poised a step away from Smith, a gun aimed at Smith's back in one fist while the other was hidden in his jacket's vest. "He will destroy you like he did your predecessor!"

Morpheus, watching both agents, noticed Brown's expression change into a stunned disbelief as he held an hand on his ear, and saw the hand stretch out, trying to stop Jones from moving against Smith, an instant to late.

Jones pulled a knife from his jacket then swings the weapon toward Smith's back. Morpheus felt a shout rise from his throat, only to fade in astonishment at what followed.

As the knife reached Smith a bubble of darkness appeared from nowhere and engulfed Jones' hand and knife. "No!" the agent roared.

"I did warn you, Agent Jones," Smith said quietly. He turned and unemotionally watched what happened next.

The dim outline of fist and weapon is seen, held motionless as Jones tried to pull away from the darkness, with little effect. The knife's pale outline is now brightly lit with green fire, the color of the matrix. White lightning played over the knife, its shape distorting as it shrank and faded in the darkness. With the knife's disappearance the lightning ran up the agent's hand, outlining his fingers in ghostly light.

Agent Jones screamed, a long drawn out cry of agony. He again tried to pull away from the shadowy globe, as Agent Brown franticly pounded on the sphere with his fists and gun, ineffectively. Within the globe Agent Jones hand started to warp.

"Stop it, Smith!" Agent Brown said to the ex-agent. "Please!"

Smith frowned, and then gave a short nod.

The globe vanishes. At the sphere's disappearance, Jones collapsed quietly into Brown's arms. A peculiar smell of burnt plastic and metal floats in the air, to be swept away in the morning breeze.

Morpheus noted that the agent's hand looked undamaged, though the shivers that racked Agent Jones looked suspiciously like a seizure. Brown lowered the other agent to the grassy sidewalk, and stared helplessly at the convulsing program. Lying on his side in a curled fetal position, Agent Jones shook a few seconds then stilled, only to shake a minute later, to start the cycle again.

"Agent Jones?" Neo said. His face is two shades paler than minutes before, and his eyes hold a mixture of confusion as he stared at the downed agent. Taking a few steps forward he then knelt beside the fallen agent. Looking up at the other agent, he said, "Will Agent Jones be all right?"

Silence and averted face is Brown's response.

Morpheus saw Neo absorb the agent's reaction with dismay, and watched as it turned to icy anger as Neo turned toward Smith.

"You had no reason to hurt Agent Jones," Neo said. "Obviously he was no threat to your power and ability."

"He was warned," Smith said. On the program's face was a faint wariness, a shadowy amusement mixed with a visible frown as he regarded the other.

"Warned?" Neo said. His voice was calm, while his eyes burned. Deliberately, he turned his attention away, looking at the other program. "Agent Brown, can he be repaired? Agent Brown?" Neo rose to his feet, and stared at the oddly still figure.

Brown is facing Neo, with Jones' shivering body between them. He stood with an unnatural stillness, right hand on earpiece, head slightly tilted, his attitude that of listening. Only the subtle movement of his jacket showed he breathed.

"Agent Brown?" Neo repeated uncertainly. The agent did not respond. Nor did he move.

"Neither agent will be---operational for the next few minutes, Mr. Anderson." Smith said.

"What did you do to him, Smith?" Morpheus asked quietly.

"Nothing---that will cause permanent damage. It's standard procedure when one agent is 'down' for the other to try and contact him. Brown is caught in 'pause,' a feedback loop. He will be released well after my business with Mr. Anderson is done." Smith said.

"We are finished, Smith. It ended when you first injured Agent Jones." Neo said, his eyes cold.

Smith studied Neo for a long, endless moment.

"Mr. Anderson, if you had your memories, you would understand how absurd your situation is. Do you have any concept, the slightest inking--- that at one time, agents were your fiercest enemies? Do you?" Smith said softly, gently.

"Yes." Neo said, his face shadowed, unreadable as he stared down at Agent Jones. "I suspected it. It doesn't matter. Agent Jones was hurt, protecting me. They both were."

Chill, frozen words from Smith. "Yes, they were. But as for the reason of our conversation…it is not finished. And never will be, until you are freed." A sudden death-head grin. "Or dead."

"Smith!" Morpheus said, fingers tightening on his gun, half lifting it. Smith turned and watched him, an eyebrow raised.

"I was not threatening Mr. Anderson, Morpheus. I was merely stating a fact. Now that you know he is alive, Zion will soon after, and never stop its attempts to free their 'hero'." Morpheus stared at Smith, and the program continued with barely restrained scorn.

"Do you believe that the mainframe will let the 'One' escape and not respond? The very act of trying to free him could restart the war," Smith said. "Furthermore, would you trust a man without memories, knowing he had been under machine control?"

"I would trust Neo with my life," Morpheus replied flatly.

"But can you trust him with the safety of Zion? Should you? Especially now?" Smith said, with a mocking smile. Morpheus glared but never answered.

Smith turned to Neo. "Once its known that you attempted to recover your past, the mainframe will respond by deleting the cause. All your memories will be completely erased or modified, Mr. Anderson, including today's events. Do you want that?"

Shaking his head, Neo's eyes were two reflections of uncertainty and pain. "Why should I think that you are telling the truth? The agents said never to trust you…"

"Yes, but did they say that I would lie?" Smith said with a faint smirk. Lifting up his hand gold light poured between his fingers. "Now--- for the third and last time, will you reclaim your memories?"

Conflict visible on his face, Neo stared at the downed agents. With a significant pause he turned his gaze directly at Morpheus and said, "Morpheus. What do you think I should do?"

Caught off-guard, Morpheus drew a deep breath, thinking hard and fast. His first reaction was to tell Neo, _yes, take back your memories,_ while the second was to quietly think over his answer.

It was a fact that 'freed minds' hated to obey orders. The very qualities that made it possible for them to escape the matrix also made it difficult for them to blindly accept authority from others. Especially orders from strangers, people they had no reason to trust.

"Do you remember anything about me, Neo?" Seeing his slight headshake Morpheus said, "Then the best advice I can give is--- follow your instincts. Trust yourself."

Neo froze, his eyes flashing up to latch onto his face; startled. Seeing Neo's reaction Morpheus smiled wryly, satisfied. Confident, the Zionist continued.

"The agents could be right in what they say about Smith; yet it is also possible that they are wrong. You do not have your memories. Smith claims that he does, more--- that you had given them to him. Is this the truth or not? I don't know. What I do know is this--- both you and Smith are enemies, but as far as I know, he has never lied to you about anything." Morpheus frowned, thinking of the Oracle.

"You have the choice to accept what Smith has said or reject it, yet nothing is gained without risk. Ultimately, the choice is yours." Morpheus ended. And a tension within the Zionist lifted off his shoulders, as he realized the course of action he would take with the Oracle.

Neo nodded, and lowered his eyes in thought. A minute later he told Smith, "I would like my memories."

Smith lifted his hand and Neo gently took the sphere, holding it with his fingertips. Staring at the object, Neo's eyes reflected the golden glow as he stared at it. "So what am I suppose to do with this?"

The sphere shattered in a burst of light. The light shaped itself into solid beams, twin spears that leaped into Neo's eyes, to halo his body in a golden aurora of light. He gave a muted cry of pain, and crumpled to the ground.

"What have you done!" Morpheus demanded. Was the offer of memories a trick? Or---

"Nothing. He still lives." Smith said, indifferent. "For now."

Swiftly knelling beside his friend, Morpheus saw with relief that Neo was breathing. Staring at Neo's face he realized that behind closed lids his eyes were moving, the sideway movement of dreaming--- or the upload of data.

After a moment of indecision, Morpheus grabbed the younger man's shoulders and lifted him to his feet. He stood up easily, giving further evidence to Morpheus that everything was fine, that while aware, most of Neo's attention was absorbed in the influx of new, or in this case, old memories.

Gazing at Neo's face, Morpheus saw that as the minutes slipped by more of his friend return. With each second more of the Neo that the Zionist remembered filled the bland, ghostly face, until Morpheus knew without doubt or uncertainty that Neo, the savior of Zion stood before him.

He felt a moment of joy when Neo opened his eyes and said, "Morpheus."

"Neo, do you remember everything?" he asked quickly.

"Yes."

Morpheus started to smile, until he looked into Neo's eyes. And realized that Neo did remember everything.

Including Trinity's death.

tbc

* * *

Next: _The Price of Power and Pain_


	13. The Price of Power and Pain

**13 The Price of Power and Pain**

_I remember everything._

_I wish I didn't. _

"_Morpheus, I couldn't save Trinity. I couldn't even mourn; there was no time, no time at all because I had to save Zion. And it hurts, Morpheus, it hurts." I said calmly, through teeth that are locked together as emotional pain starts to well up within me._

_The agony was bottomless._

"_I know, Neo. We found the Logos and Trinity. Her body—she's back at Zion. I'm sorry." Morpheus said, looking steadily at me, his own grief for Trinity clear on his face._

_Seeing his sorrow doubles my own, and I fought for control. "I could talk to Trinity about anything except one thing: her death. Whenever the subject came up, I just---froze. It just hurt so bad. And now--now we'll never talk to each other again." _

"_It's funny. I could talk to Trinity about anything except for one thing, her death. Whenever the subject came up, I'd immediately talk about my own. I always assumed I would be the first one to die. After all, since the hallway, I had a little practice."_

_Morpheus becomes still, his expressionless face radiating concern behind shades that tells me I'm barely coherent and babbling, a fact that's only a distant concern._

"_I had dreams of her dying in the matrix and I was able to save her. Why didn't I dream of her death at 01?" More importantly, why didn't I insist on her staying behind? I felt my control slip a little further from my grasp._

"_Neo, your hands." Morpheus said, and I brought them up in response._

_My hands had been tightly clenched and as I looked at them I saw the trickles of blood on them. Straightening my fingers I saw where my nails had cut into my palm, four small half-moons filled with blood in each palm._

"_I didn't notice." It was a minor surprise, easily forgotten against the growing bottomless scream that was building up within me. A scream that once started I could never stop. A need to scream that began at Trinity's death._

_How did I handle my pain, my grief before?_

"_Do you know that when Trinity died I wanted to cry, but couldn't because my eyes were gone, literally burned out. And now that I can cry, a part of me doesn't think I deserve too, so again--- I can't cry." Even as I speak my vision blurs, making my statement a lie as my control is at the breaking point._

_And remembered._

_A vision of cables, powerlines passing by at incredible speeds and I flew above them; and another vision of the place it led to, machine city 01. Seeing the merciless, pitiless face of Deus Ex Machina glowing with a golden fire that suddenly changed into code._

_And my grief is distant, bearable. It was as if my emotions had somehow been repressed, or diverted._

_Morpheus speaks, but I don't hear it as my attention is caught by the expression on Smith's face as he grabs my arm._

_A look of rage, mingled with fear as he glared at me._

"_Stop what you have done! Stop it this instant!" He snarls at me._

_And I don't understand, until the rain starts to fall, rain from skies that was sunny moments before._

_Rain from skies like the one in our last battle._

_The rain pours._

_>>>>>>>>_

Morpheus had quietly watched as Zion's savior fell apart. It had been disturbing on many levels to see Neo's grief for Trinity. Neo's eyes were two windows of agony, bright with unshed tears as he closed them, obviously fighting for control over his misery.

In the momentary pause, Morpheus decided to speak.

"Neo, there is something I should—" he said, until stopped by surprise. The uncontrolled sorrow on Neo's face was gone, leaving it serene, mask-like. The Zionist stared, unsettled by the abrupt change in his friend.

Smith leaped forward, grabbing Neo's arm and yelled into his face. Morpheus stepped forward in alarm, unsure if he should interfere. Neo shrugged off the ex-agent grasp, ignoring the other, his face curiously blank.

Something hit Morpheus on the top of his crown. In reflex he absently ran his hand over his head and peered upward, astonished at what he saw. The sky was black with rain clouds. A sky that seconds before was sunny, and clear. A deluge of water followed the single drop, a steady rain that soaked everything in seconds.

"This can't… it's impossible." Morpheus breathed.

"Impossible? Is it really?" Smith said with lethal mockery, rain dripping down his face as he turned away from Neo. "No, not quite. And it is Mr. Anderson's responsibility."

"Just what are you implying, Smith?" Morpheus said, spearing a fierce glance at him.

"I imply nothing. I simply state a fact: your savior, Neo--- is causing the rain."

"I don't believe it!"

"Then make clear to me the limits of Neo's abilities. Clarify what he can't affect in the matrix. Better yet, have Mr. Anderson explain." Smith said gesturing to the other. During the argument, Neo had stood quietly, face tilted upward and eyes closed as rain splattered against his face. Hearing his name, he stirred and opened his eyes.

"He's right Morpheus. I did cause this rain. I don't know how, but I did it once before." Neo said, avoiding his gaze. Alarms began to ring within Morpheus. The only time possible for this event was Smith's and Neo' last battle, the battle only the participants witnessed.

"Can you stop it?"

Silence. The living statue of Agent Brown stood just behind Neo, a macabre background feature in the scenery. At Brown's feet, a shivering Jones was an anonymous lump in the downpour.

"Neo…" Morpheus said. Neo turned and locked gazes with him, until Morpheus looked away, disturbed for a reason he couldn't name. While expressionless, something about Neo seemed---wrong, tormented. Neo was grieving for Trinity, yet this seemed to be something more. But what?

"No." Neo said, "I---can't."

"We'll find a way." Morpheus said gently.

"I'll handle this---problem, myself." Smith said as he stared Neo, making the meaning clear. Neo stared back at the program, his eyes remote, and strangely resigned. The look chilled Morpheus.

"No." Morpheus said, voice crisp, decisive. "You have helped enough, Smith. We'll deal with this, by ourselves if need be." Grasping Neo's shoulder, he tried to urge him to start walking away from the ex-agent. Neo did not move, his attention focused on his enemy.

"It's not your decision, Morpheus." Smith replied. "It's Neo's."

"Smith's right. It is mine." Neo echoed quietly. He absently ran his fingers through his hair, unmindful of the rain soaking it. "It must stop now."

Morpheus grimaced, hearing the undertones. _Freedom or death_.

"I insist." Smith said. "If not stopped soon, the matrix will be destroyed."

"What!" Morpheus said sharply, wheeling to glare at the program. "Why do you say that?"

"Check the code of the matrix, Morpheus." Smith said, breaking the staring contest to glance at the Zionist. "Ask your operator if the whole system is being affected by this 'storm.' If it's happening as I sense, it_ will_ become worse, until everything is fragmented and destroyed."

"The matrix, destroyed? By what, rain? A flood?" Morpheus said, skepticism coloring his voice.

"Among other things." Smith said. "I would suggest you observe."

Lightning ripped across the sky, its core a golden light while the branches were the green of the matrix, a jagged wound that tainted the gray sky. Thunder that followed seemed reassuringly normal, yet in its aftermath, Morpheus thought he heard whispering crackles, the sound of electric generators near overload.

Morpheus stared upward at the sky, his face impassive behind his spectacles. Then awkwardly using his right hand to reach over to his overcoat's left pocket he pulled out his cell phone. "Link? I need for you to check how far this storm is affecting the matrix."

>>>>>>>>

_I watched Morpheus on the phone, as he spoke in hurried, sharp tones, something I've never heard from him before. Every once in a while he'd shoot a quick glance my way, concern and fear evident despite his impassive face. _

_He had a reason to fear, to be concerned about me._

_I felt broken, shattered, as if something had been ripped out of me, and then those pieces that left are…changed. Different. Dying._

_Something's broken, and wrong with me, and Morpheus senses and fears it. Despite having my memories returned, knowledge of who I am has not helped in the least, and in truth, made it worse. Somehow, the return of my memories had accelerated this change, this…death._

_What is most disturbing is that while I should be afraid, I'm not, and in fact don't feel anything at all except the most distant of emotions._

_A part of me is dying, and had been for a long time. I knew it in the hallway, when Smith shot me, and I felt it occur for a second every time I touched the matrix and bent the rules. _

_Yet I never understood until it until the end. Until the moment I found myself rain drenched and broken, as Smith stood triumphant over me, my mind ringing with the Oracle's words. Beginning and End._

_My connection to the matrix was deeper than I thought or believed. As was Smith's._

_Remembering all this, I closed my eyes and reached out to the storm. It was as if all that made me human was in the storm, and within its embrace I felt my grief and pain, all the emotion I felt for Trinity's loss, fueling its power. And in that turmoil I felt colder, darker threads. Other thoughts._

_Smith._

_Opening my eyes, I found Smith directly in front of me, watching me. The rain poured steadily down all this time, and I watched it drip from his face, and his black, black shades. "Do, you feel it, Anderson? The power, the connection?" _

_I nod. "Are you going to kill me, Smith?" While I don't feel any fear, neither do I want Morpheus to hear this conversation. _

_It was then the ex-agent smiled, and said with cold mockery. "It depends. Perhaps I will, perhaps I will not. Aren't you afraid?" _

"_No. I've never been afraid. Not of dying. I am curious though. If you planned to kill me, why return my memories?"_

"_Isn't it obvious?" For a second I see his emotionless rage. Then a thin smile, "Still not using the one muscle that matters? Very well, let me be clear. To obliterate you, would mean my own destruction, Mr. Anderson. The Oracle's memories made that quite clear, along with personal experience. Death is an event I have no intention in participating again. No, far from it."_

"_But neither am I interested in being taken captive by the mainframe. Without your memories, you would have no reason to escape the matrix or the Architect. To leave you as a 'agent' of the system, would have insured my eventual capture, by you." And then Smith grins._

_I smiled back, finding the irony, funny. As the humor touches me, for one second the rain stops, and with it returned the horror and grief of Trinity's death crashes over me, literally stunning me. I staggered, grabbing my head, as the emotions quickly recede. _

_The rain starts to fall again. I watched it fall to patter on Smith's black shoes, and kept my gaze lowered. Sloshing footsteps are herald to brown boots, and stopped as it neared me._

"_Neo." Morpheus is standing in front of me, side by side with Smith. "Are you all right?" _

_Sighing, I lifted up my head to answer. Several smart-ass remarks rose in my throat, to be throttled by Morpheus', look of concern. I settled for a silent shake of my head. _

"_It's perfectly clear that neither Mr. Anderson or the matrix are 'all right,' and the situation has made a turn for the worst." Smith said. _

_The light in the matrix was a visible green, and a low hum was audible in the rain. _

"_Thank you Mr. Obvious, I can see that." Morpheus snapped._

"_The name is Smith, ex-agent Smith." He said blandly, too blandly._

_I cracked up, laughing. It wasn't really funny, but the knowledge that they could argue about trivial things with death only moments away was, and sent me into hysterics. _

_As I laughed, several things happened at once. I felt completely whole, alive. The matrix' sky suddenly cleared, one moment gray skies, the next sunny with scattered clouds though water still dripped from everything. _

_Then as before, the emotions of grief arrived like a tsunami. Aching loss filled and overwhelmed my mind but before I could shove the emotion away, Smith's hand lashed out, grabbing my wrist. Startled, I saw darkness flare from Smith, a dark that engulfed me, and caused a second of bright pain. _

tbc

* * *

Next: _Rabbit Hole Realities_


	14. Rabbit Hole Realities

**14 Rabbit Hole Realities**

_In the shadow I realized what Smith had done. He severed my connection to the matrix. _

_Within the dark, I felt my sorrow, not recede but change in texture, and sensed that somehow my link to the matrix had magnified that single emotion to unmanageable proportions. It had created a escalating feedback loop and the emotions had been reflected in the matrix along with rain. The moment I touched the matrix, I had felt my sorrow magnified, and had unconsciously shoved it away continuing the loop, and caused the storm, magnifying it to where the power of it threatened to destroy the matrix. _

_In moments, my emotions quieted, as another feeling took its place. _

_Escape. I hate the dark. _

_>>>>>>>>_

Smith grabbed Neo's wrist, and at that point of contact, darkness swept over Zion's savior like a shroud. Seconds later Smith held onto a shadow that was only vaguely manlike.

Morpheus, heedless of his own injury, threw a side kick at Smith, trying to break the link between them by shattering the ex-agent's arm. Smith's free hand caught his boot, then shoved him away, with the result of Morpheus tumbling to the street, a few yards away. Pain exploded from his dislocated shoulder, and for a few seconds he laid on the street, until driven by the desperate need to rescue Neo he staggered to his feet.

"I told you that I would take care of the problem, Morpheus," Smith said, his voice remote. Inside the dark, a dimly seen form of Neo could be seen, shaded with various intensities of charcoal.

Morpheus glared with icy fury. "What have you done to him?"

"Mr. Anderson's connection to the matrix must be reset. As mine was." Smith said.

"He's not a damned machine---" Morpheus started until he noticed movement affecting the world around him.

The matrix warped and left change in their wake. Ripples like a heat wave crawled along the landscape, changing damp ground to bone dry dirt. Where puddles shone in the sun, moments later they were gone, leaving a dry sunny morning.

Agent Brown's hair moved softly in the breeze, untouched by rain, while Agent Jones, his jacket once a sodden mess was now only rumpled looking as the program laid quietly on the ground.

Oddly enough, Morpheus noticed neither himself or Smith were touched by the change, and both their clothes stayed soaking wet. Looking down at his feet, he saw water drop on the dry street from his leather overcoat.

Smith followed his stare and said. "The matrix has also been reset. The mainframe is repairing the damage Zion's savior caused. It is surprising the mainframe did not delete this whole sector, its standard procedure with discontinuity glitches."

In the distance, police sirens wailed.

Within the dark a bright golden light surrounded Neo's form. A sharp crack sounded as a fine white line etched itself on the dark surface, a line that spread into fractures around the object, as the light within intensified and turned pure white.

The dark exploded soundlessly, immediately disappearing in the bright sunlight. In its place Neo stood quietly, yet the look in his eyes made Morpheus involuntarily step back.

"I really hate the dark." Neo blinked his eyes, and the wild, intensity faded. Looking down at his arm, he waited until Smith released his wrist, then started to absently rub it with his other hand.

"Are you all right?" Morpheus said tentatively.

"Yeah, but---" he stopped, then looking at the older man, his eyes turned vague and Neo staggered and dropped face forward to the ground.

Morpheus lifted his eyes, seeing that with Neo's fall, another was exposed, standing behind him.

An agent. Agent Brown. Morpheus and the program stared at each other for a timeless instant, then the agent shifted and leaped for Smith.

Brown threw a left at Smith's chin, causing the shades that covered Smith's eyes to fly off, and revealed icy blue eyes. Brown continued his attack by a jab to the stomach with his right, and then paused his attack.

Smith straight-armed Brown to the chest, the power of the blow sending the agent a dozen yards away, to the opposite side of the street. Brown tumbled roughly on a manicured lawn, to land in a crouching position, his suit disarrayed and face predatory as he glared at Smith.

"Brown, your attack was very inefficient. You should not have stopped after the second blow, but rather followed through to keep me off balance, if you could." Smith said, his eyebrows raised and frowning.

"There was no need. My objective was achieved."

Smith's eyes opened wide, then looked down.

A syringe was imbedded in his shirt, in his belly area. Slowly, suddenly unsteady, his hand pulled out the object to stare at it in disbelief, and dread started to crack his impassive features.

"No…It can't be…"

"The Architect awaits you, Smith. You and Neo Anderson. It was foreseen that you would contact the One and attempt to free him, making it a perfect opportunity to recapture you." Agent Brown stood up fluidly, and slowly walked forward toward a visibly weaving Smith.

Morpheus looked down and noted without surprise that a syringe was in Neo's back. Made of orange and clear plastic, the object was starkly visible against the black overcoat Neo wore. Green coding flared around Neo for one instant, and Morpheus watched as Neo turned transparent and quietly faded away. Afterward, only an empty syringe laid on the street. Only a syringe. He stared at it, and felt dizzy, numb.

"Brown, why----"

"It was further calculated that no agent, either upgraded or not, could defeat you, so other means were deemed necessary. A code was created to disrupt the One's connection to the matrix and send him directly to the Architect. It was also known you would see and disregard its danger, believing it would only affect Neo. Especially after dealing with the more obvious danger of the knives."

"Brown…"

"I'm sorry, Smith." Brown said quietly. "My purpose was clear when I learned you destroyed all those other agents." Brown paused his motion, and Morpheus realized they were next to each other, with Smith only a few feet before them. Smith's eyes were turning dull, unfocused just like Neo's had before he collapsed and disappeared.

Just like Neo. Morpheus realized that he now held a gun in his mobile hand, and watched it as it slowly rose toward Brown.

"I did not destroy any agents."

"What?"

Whirling around Brown kicked the gun out of Morpheus' hand, then continued his forward stalk to Smith. The agent grabbed the front of Smith's shirt, and dragged his former leader closer toward him.

"You lie, Smith. There are no active agents in the matrix except for Jones and myself." Brown's rage was cold, a fury all the more lethal because of his control. "Every agent that had been sent after you had been deleted after the encounter. Every. Single. One."

"Because I altered their code, Agent Brown. I freed the agent's compulsion to obey the mainframe's call for deletion. What happened next would be completely up to them. Their choice. Their call."

Brown released Smith as if burned. He took a step backward and shook his head, his expression dissipating into shocked blankness.

"Neither you or Jones required it because it is only a light compulsion in our programming, and one you could break, if you chose. The upgraded agent's however…" Smith slurred his last words, and crumpled to his knees. "Needed a chance to choose."

"Smith…" Brown whispered.

Smith collapsed on the street, still.

Brown's attention focused on Morpheus. "The One is finally where he belongs, within the matrix and under the Architect's control. Any further attempts to obtain Neo Anderson will be regarded as an act of war."

Morpheus stared at Smith's collapsed form, then said, "And what of Smith?"

"That is not your concern." Brown's face was blank, alertly watching him.

"No, I think it is." He drew his breath in deeply, gathering his depleted resources, feeling a bitter irony race through his mind as he calculated the odds, and readied himself to strike. "The machine mainframe risked a great deal in capturing Smith. Why? Is it because Smith holds information you don't want humanity to know?"

"Too late, Morpheus. Your questions are too late." Brown said.

Morpheus saw with a sinking heart a blue light glowed around Smith, a light that was changing slowly into green coding.

The police sirens were loud in the air, as another noise joined them. The savage roar of racing engines and squealing tires erupted in the air as a car turned and sped down the street. The car, a red Ford Mustang charged down the road as if to ram into them, then the sound of screeching breaks filled the air as its speed slowed and it swerved sideways on the street, until it stopped within a few feet of Morpheus, its passenger side door directly in front of him.

The car door opened.

"Morpheus, get in!" Niobe said.

He glanced back at Brown who stared at an empty spot Smith had occupied.

"Hurry!" Niobe snapped.

>>>>>>>>

"And Seraph led me out of another door to a nearby neighborhood where I had Link upload a car. I drove back to the Oracle's like crazy and found you. Looks like just in time, too." Niobe finished. She stole a sidelong glance at Morpheus on the passenger side of the car, his face serene behind his spectacles, his right arm framing the car's window, fingers touching the roof. Only the awkward position of his left arm hinted at any injury.

"You always did have the ability to help save me in the nick of time, Captain. Thank you." Morpheus faintly smiled.

"Are you going to tell me what happened? Or do I have to drag it out of you, just like old times?" Niobe said. Despite her words, she felt a sense of relief that the old Morpheus was back; it had been unsettling for her to see the barely leased rage in him during the mission, a despair that made him lash out in unexpected ways.

"Forgive me, Niobe. I've just been thinking about what you told me concerning the Oracle. What just happened to me is… disturbing in its implications, especially with the information you've supplied." Morpheus said, watching the traffic as Niobe deftly turned a right corner, the turn so tight that he could have easily reached out to touch a child standing on the street corner.

"So was your injury caused by those two agents that you were with? One of them looked worse off than you do, which is surprising. How did you do it?" Niobe said lightly. Driving on the left side of a two-lane street, she signaled a left turn at the light, waiting for it to turn green.

"No. The agent along with myself was injured by the same individual. By Smith," said Morpheus.

"What? Smith?" Niobe stared in momentary disbelief, then ignoring the red light, her foot slammed on the accelerator, as with a screech of tires her car swerved into the turn with reckless abandon. The car narrowly missing being totaled by cross traffic, and Niobe drove with one hand on the wheel while the other whipped out her cell phone.

"Link, find me the closest hardline, secured or not, and check the area to see if we've been tailed by Smith. You heard me, Smith!"

"Niobe, there's no danger, at least none from Smith," Morpheus said calmly as he watched the scenery whirl by with alarming speed.

"I'll be the judge of that. You're injured, Morpheus. Let me help." She said, her right shoulder cradling the cell phone. She frowned. "That's surprising, Link. Keep me informed of any changes." The car immediately slowed down to a reasonable speed, and Morpheus let out a relieved sigh.

"No Smith, right? I didn't expect it, but I had hoped…" his voice faded.

"Morpheus, what the hell is going on?" Midday in the suburbia, the traffic was light on the wide streets, giving Niobe a strange sense of isolation as she divided her attention between driving and the conversation.

He started to tell her of his meeting with Smith, ending with the moment of the disappearance of the Oracle's house.

"I have to admit, Morpheus, I never thought you were crazy enough to take on Smith again, especially after your last encounter. What's more amazing is that you survived it." She shook her head.

"It's not important. What happened next is," Morpheus begins to tell of Neo's arrival and the events that followed.

"I missed seeing Neo by just a minute? Just like the Oracle said," Niobe whispered as Morpheus finished his tale.

Morpheus looked at her questioningly.

"The Oracle said that the next time I see him, he'd be the machine's One." Seeing his shock, she added quickly, "But only if the Architect has his way, whatever that means."

"Let's hope her prediction never comes true. For all our sake's. Especially Neo's." said Morpheus grimly.

Hearing a strange note in his voice, Niobe said, "Morpheus, are you all right? About the Oracle—"

"No. I'm not fine, Niobe. I made a foolish, and worse--- prideful blunder. It is difficult to face the reality that much of my actions was influenced by a…program. I should have confronted the Oracle when I had the chance. It took a conversation with Smith to point out my mistake. I need to ask questions of her, questions about her motives, and goals."

"More, I need to find out who this Architect is." He then added, "And why Neo is the final payment demanded by the machines for peace."

"Considering the way Neo was affecting the matrix, don't you think he would be safer with the machines?" Niobe said.

"No!" Morpheus snapped. Niobe jerked her head toward him, and watched him take a deep breath to continue. "The machines only buried his pain---they never confronted it. I doubt that his reaction would have been so bad, if he had the time to deal with Trinity's death. No one should ever have to deal with a loved one's death alone. Or feel responsible for her death." Unconsciously he tightened his fingers into fists, and his injured shoulder responded with a bolt of pain. He grimaced.

"No one ever mourns alone in Zion. We all mourn and miss her. And don't you forget it, either." Niobe said, and hoped her voice showed concern.

He nodded briefly at her words, keeping his face turned forward as he said, "When I told Neo that the rabbit hole was deeper than he knew, I didn't realize that it was deeper than even I knew. It's deeper and with far more twists than I could have ever foreseen."

"The same is true of everybody. Life's like that."

A long silence followed.

"Morpheus." A small silence followed. "Spit it out."

Morpheus' eyebrows lift, and he turned his head to study her profile.

"The only time you ever use your Alice quotes is when you're planning to do something either extremely perilous or stupid, usually both. So, what is it?" she said, her eyes on the road, with her peripheral vision watching him carefully.

"I am going to ask Roland if the Hammer could stay another week monitoring the matrix," Morpheus said, after a significant pause.

"What for?" She sensed he spoke the truth, but not all of it. What was he hiding?

"A belief—no, a hope—that somehow, someway we will hear from Neo. That he will fight his way free from the Architect's power and return to Zion. And when he does escape, the certainty that he'll need help to succeed. Someone must wait and watch for him. And I have to be that person." The intensity of his gaze burned as his voice darkened.

"And if you're wrong, Morpheus?" Niobe said, giving him a sidelong glance. "What if Neo doesn't escape the Architect?"

"Then I'm afraid that we must face the possibility that the next time we see Neo, he'll be the enemy of humanity and of Zion." Morpheus said remotely.

The silence that followed was deafening.

tbc

* * *

Next: _The Architect's Question_


	15. The Architect's Question

**15 The Architect's Question**

The Architect was seated in his gray chair as the doorway opens. Turning his chair he observes the visitor, then lifts the pen and turns all monitors blank, dark.

"You have achieved total reintegration?" he inquired. "Your RSI has returned to its original configuration. Was the complete upload of your memories a success?"

"Well, yes I have, and yes it was, no thanks to you!" the Oracle said. Middle-aged and plump, she now looked like she did when Neo first met her. "It was a relief getting my full abilities back, though I did enjoy my younger looks. I loved getting my 'eyes' back. For a time I wondered if you were going to keep them from me."

"To disrupt the equitable balance between us would in subsequent events affect the matrix--- and be highly unadvisable."

"Could've fooled me. What you did to compel me to further your plans was devious." The Oracle said, with a laughing sparkle in her eyes. "And very human."

"Please." The Architect said. "You know the logic of my actions."

"Logic?" the Oracle said sharply. "It was logical to edit my abilities and knowledge before Smith could infect me, that we both agree. If Smith had my full abilities, he would truly see the future his choice would take and the end, well, the end would've been a different story. But to withhold those said abilities unless I helped your little plan afterward, that got my goat! What side do you think I'm on anyway?" Her purse, a black bag of enormous size, swung erratically as she folded her arms and her eyebrows lifted.

"You objected to my plan."

"Of course I did, and still do. You know my reasons."

"The outcome was successful." The Architect lifts up his pen and two monitors display images. Then the two pictures expand to fill the other monitors and exhibit the two different scenes, halving the circular room with the two expanded images.

In each picture are close-up views of a hospital bed. In each bed is a single patient. One patient is Neo, the other Smith. And both are sleeping uneasily.

The Architect again lifts his pen and then all screens are blank, dark. "The objective of my strategy was achieved."

"So it seems, at first glance," the Oracle answered. "But like all things in the matrix, appearances can be deceiving." She opened up her purse to draw out a cigarette and lighter. Lighting up the Oracle inhaled a breath of smoke.

"It was necessary for me to acquire your ability to calculate probable effects, to predict the future," the Architect stated. "With your ability in defining and clarifying the variables the desired outcome was achieved. We now have both anomalies, Smith and Neo Anderson—in our care. Your groundless reservations of my decision are unfounded."

"Catching them and keeping them are two different things, as you well know." She said, watching the gentle swirl of smoke drift in the air. In turn the Architect watched her alertly, fingers tented before him. "And I didn't object to the plan. Only to the details, and the problems that would occur along the way."

"The dissonant variables that occur will be dealt with." He countered.

"And you say I play a dangerous game? Remember what I said before."

"It was not considered that your prognosis of future events at the time was probable. The variance between two versions of the future differs so drastically that study was not deemed necessary when my equation always prevailed, evidenced by all the earlier versions and final ending. My equation always prevailed, that is---until the current One's actions changed everything."

"Goodness sake's, a body can get tired listening to you speak," she complained, giving the Architect a dry look. "Just say that you didn't believe my predictions and leave it at that, okay?"

"I had not considered your intuitive equation of the matrix, either of probable or of viable use. The supposition that the One was the end result of the matrix equation rather than a systemic anomaly resulting from the imbalanced equation seemed… unlikely. And your further theories regarding Smith's emergence as a programmed anomaly were less--- probable."

"Hm, why don't you just say you screwed up and made a mistake, like any intelligent being. Speaking of screw-ups did you deliberately ignore my advice?" the Oracle said wryly, her black eyes glittering.

"No. I had not anticipated the events would lead to such a drastic outcome."

"I warned you not to set the defenses at 01 so strong. I also said that to do so would likely cause the death of Trinity. And I gave the reasons why she mustn't die. But what was the result?" for the first time, the Oracle's amused sparkle dimmed, and momentary sorrow wreathed her face.

"The results were… regrettable."

"Damn right, I'll say. With Trinity out of the picture, Neo's powers and control has become erratic. He's a danger to the matrix and to himself, the poor kid. It would have been a mercy to let him die after the battle with Smith."

"Let the One die? A incalculable loss that will not be allowed to happen." The Architect said. "Your intuitive equation has such impressive implications connected to the One's powers and likely abilities that they must be explored and controlled."

"You didn't believe it possible or even probable that Neo could affect reality out of the matrix. Honey, what that boy has the potential to do will pop your eyes out!" the Oracle said with a faint smile of pride. "He destroyed those sentinels after being injured and blinded by Smith. If he had been healthy, there's no telling what he could've done. Shame that it's likely the potential will never be reached. He's so broken up over Trinity's loss, he might never recover." The Oracle sighed.

"Ergo, my plan that led to the erasure of his memories and the easing of pain. It was assumed that he could function and relearn the control of the matrix."

"That erasure was a bad patch job, if I ever saw one. And what you did to capture Smith…" the Oracle shook her head in disbelief.

"The erasure was partial, leaving fragments for Neo Anderson to relearn and discover his powers. For Smith, I used tactics you suggested," the Architect leaned back into his chair. The Oracle watched his movements with a lifted brow.

"First of all, erasures never take into account what's lost. In erasing Neo's memories, you also removed his emotional control and you saw the results. And the way you handled Smith," she frowned. "The scheme I suggested was to be only used as a last resort, not as a first option."

"It was a valid assessment to recover Smith as soon as possible. He has returned to mainframe control and shall be reprogrammed. Your first option would take longer and with all the variables, the outcome was in doubt."

"Of course, letting him come back freely and of his own choice always implies the right to refuse. But it was the best option to keep Smith sane, let me tell you."

"Clarify and specify your cognition of Smith's mental capacity."

"Much brighter than some people I could name. You and Neo share some surprising characteristics. For such smart minds you're not too bright in the emotions department, though."

"I leave that to you. Illuminate and elaborate."

"That's a joke? Never thought I'd see the day." Her eyebrows lifted and a sardonic smile appeared.

"Continue exposition of Smith."

"Forget it. Need more convincing? Let me show you the end results of your actions." Opening her purse, she fumbled around its interior for a moment, and then with a faint smile, pulled out a tv remote. Flicking on a switch, all the blank monitors sprang to life, the green code of the matrix flooding every screen.

The Architect's eyes narrowed as the green code scrolled down the screens. Standing up he then circled the room, staring at all the monitors as he walked pass. When he reached his starting point, he stopped before the Oracle.

"Are you certain?" said the Architect.

"Yes. Within three months the destruction of the matrix will be final. And the end of 01 and Zion happens soon after." The Oracle's voice is remote, while her face showed sadness.

"The conclusion is unacceptable." The Architect announced. "If we allow only the One to live will the outcome be different?"

"No." She touched the remote again, causing the screens to flicker briefly and resume showing the green rivers of data. "Within a year or more the destruction of the matrix will occur, immediately followed by 01. Within a few years, Zion will die, torn by internal conflicts following the matrix's destruction."

"The results must be changed." The Architect stared at the monitors before turning his attention back to the Oracle. "What would ensure our survival along with the anomalies Neo Anderson and Smith?"

The Oracle smiled.

tbc

* * *

Next the conclusion: _Hospital Visits (or The Oracle's Answer)_


	16. Hospital Visits or The Oracle's Answer

**16 Hospital Visits (or The Oracle's Answer)**

Standing in the white featureless place, the Oracle's eyes were immediately drawn to the two hospital beds.

In one bed Agent Jones slept quietly, his face tranquil and empty. He was lying on his back fully dressed in his suit, his shades resting on the top of his head and hands folded across his chest. He looked as if he had decided to take a quick nap on top of the bed, his blanket in pristine condition underneath him except for the marks caused by shoe polish.

Absorbing Jones situation in a glance, the Oracle's attention fully turned to the room's other occupant, and she frowned in concern. While the space around Jones' bed was serene and empty, countless monitoring devices surrounded the other's bed. In that bed Smith slept and his face was scowling, even in deep slumber.

Smith was lying on his back, face devoid of his shades and clothed in a hospital gown. From the chest down he was covered neatly with a white blanket and surrounded by monitoring devices. His right arm was gently tied down with a cloth wristband and an IV drip. The liquid in the IV bag was clear, though tinted with a faint green.

Seeing the IV bag brought a quiet smile to the Oracle's lips.

Agent Brown stood at the foot of his bed, his head bowed as if in thought. At her approach Brown turned his head, his dark shades hiding any expression.

"Is Smith going to be fine?" said Brown. "You don't plan to delete him, do you?"

"Of course not," the Oracle said. "Your father and I are taking care of him this moment. With a little tweaking of his programming, I believe Smith will return to the fold."

"At one point I would've been overjoyed at such news. But now—it seems wrong. And I don't know why." Brown said, the last sentence almost inaudible.

"You know perfectly well why you feel this way. Once you understand this, everything will fall into place." The Oracle advised matter-of-factly.

"I don't understand." Brown stared. The Oracle sighed.

"Never mind. Just tell me why tweaking Smith's program bothers you."

Pensive, Brown stared at Smith. "It's because he has no choice. Smith always hated that." He finally said in a quiet voice. "Even as an agent, he despised having no choice."

"You hit it right on the head, dear," stated the Oracle. "A agent's job is so difficult that you're also given less freedom than any other sentient program. And an agent's emotional empathy is severely suppressed and edited to help perform the job, and that can sometimes cause problems."

"Is it because of what we once were? What Smith once was?"

The Oracle turned an inquisitive look at the agent.

"I remember what Smith had been. Before he became an agent. I think that's why Smith hated Neo so much. Because something within him remembered," said Brown. "Are all agents… like this?"

"No. Only the best. And that includes both you and Jones." Smiled the Oracle. "Let's kept it as our little secret, shall we?"

Brown nodded.

>>>>>>>>

His nostrils flared in distaste at the scent of bleach as Locke coldly observed the man before him. It was strange, the hospital sector was the only place in Zion full of intelligent individuals with no sense at all, evidenced by the idiot standing before him.

"Let me through!" Locke snapped at the medic. Said idiot swallowed, and answered.

"Commander, you have no permission to enter here, sir. The area is under quarantine." Locke noted the nervous tremor in his voice. Good, the man was uncertain about that. If it was a true medical emergency, there was no way in hell he'd be unsure.

"I damn well should, my rank as Supreme commander of Zion gives me every right to. Now stand aside, medic!" Locke said, using his no-nonsense voice, certain that the man would obey.

The medic hesitated, until with a creak of metal two men emerged from the barred room. One was thin, a gangly young man that Locke immediately assessed and ignored, his attention caught by the older man. The man understood the situation in a glance and nodded at the medic, who quickly fled. Locke watched the medic scurry away with a frown, then turned his attention to the man before him.

"Commander Locke. This is unexpected." Ghost said mildly. He was slightly shorter than average and solidly built with muscles. Leaning against the door with his arms folded, the message was clear, and ignited Locke's temper.

"This is an outrage! I find out from rumors that a section of the medical ward is restricted, and not even I know the cause. Furthermore, when I asked the council, no one would give me a answer." Locke said glaring at the other man.

"There are reasons," Ghost said calmly, seeming unaffected by his anger.

"This obviously has something to do with your last mission. The one you and Morpheus were on." Locke said, his mouth twisting in distaste at the name.

"Yes."

"And the reason for the quarantine?"

"Sufficient."

"That's not an answer, that's insolence bordering on insubordination!"

Ghost shrugged. "Sir, the Council had ordered my silence."

"At Morpheus' request! Since the war ended, the council has lost what little common sense it had, listening to his rantings."

"So that's what this is about? Morpheus?" Ghost said.

"Excuse me?" Locke's voice faded as his eyebrows rose in astonishment.

"You're angry because of Morpheus… and my captain," Ghost said.

Chill silence.

"You're way out of line, Ghost. One more remark like that and you'll never be in sneezing distance of any ship again," Locke said, his voice quiet. "Stand aside."

Ghost stared at him for a long moment considering, then with a faint bow of his head he moved away from the door. Without a further word Locke opened the door.

Once the door shut with a clang, Kid broke the silence for the first time. "Oh, man. Commander Locke was so mad! So what are we going to do now?"

Ghost stared thoughtfully at the door. "Let Morpheus know as soon as he returns."

"Hey, I agree, but what I meant was--- when are we going to eat?" Kid said.

Slightly smiling at the younger man's pathetic tone, Ghost sighed. "Go ahead, Kid. Get something for yourself. I've decided to stay here, I just lost my appetite."

Determinedly Ghost reached for the door's handle and pulled it open.

>>>>>>>>

Leaving Brown at Smith's bedside, the Oracle then opened the doorway to her other concern. Walking through, her eyes were immediately drawn to the lonely bed and its occupant.

"Despite my initial doubts about the Architect's plan, I am glad you're still alive Neo." The Oracle said musingly, as she reached his bed. "I'm so very sorry for Trinity's death. It was a terrible mistake and hurt you deeply. A grief that I plan to mend as soon as possible."

The Oracle stared at the IV that was attached to his right arm, and checked the drip rate. She nodded, satisfied.

"Soon the memory of your lost love will be faded and the pain gone," the Oracle said softly, looking down at his pale sleeping face. "A few more hours of this treatment will change things completely. And the best thing is that you'll retain all your memories, the good and the bad. You'll be what you were always meant to be."

"You will be right as rain, I promise," she said as she tenderly brushed his hair away from his forehead. "And you will find a new purpose, a new hope in life with us. I guarantee it."

"How can I be so certain, you might ask? Well, it's simple really. I'll make sure of it. After all," smiled the Oracle. "My other name is the Programmer."


	17. Episode: The Reply

**Episode: The Reply**

Straightening the bedclothes near Neo's right arm, the Oracle noticed the blanket was wet. Lifting his arm, she saw the end of the drip on the blanket.

"Hmmph. Let's get your IV back into you and continue your treatment," she sighed.

Neo's eyes opened as he grabbed the Oracle's arm.

"No." he said.

(Fin.)

* * *

Author's Afterword

First off, I want to again thank my beta readers, CD Nuts and Amber 20.

CD, thanks for help on an early partial draft. Your remark about Morpheus was right on target.

Amber, your editorial touch on my story has worked pure magic. Your help, especially on my dialog and characterization (something I know I'm very weak at), has smoothed out the many rough spots and strengthened my story immensely! Any deficiencies with the story or dialog is my fault, I was too stubborn to take your advice. Your willingness to help edit my story despite a heavy workload speaks a lot of your kindness and generosity. A million, billion Thank Yous!

I want to say thanks to all who have read and reviewed my story. You folks don't know how encouraging it was to have a review of my story. To have someone leave a review of a couple of words made my day, and most of you wrote a lot more. An embarrassment of riches!

I also feel privileged (and surprised) that some of you have liked my story enough to have it among your favorites. To all of you, Thank you!

Now on to other matters…

The Question is finished.

Does this mean the storyline is over?

No, definitely not! Rest assured that answers to questions (raised and some that haven't been asked yet) will be answered then.

I plan to post the sequel's beginning early next year. In it, I plan to add in elements from MxO. I think my story is flexible enough to take certain elements from MxO and playfully integrate it to suit my storyline's need.

In the meantime, I will post other matrix stories. See ya soon!


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